


Cherry Bomb

by InkInterrupted



Category: Tommy Conlon - Fandom, Warrior (2011)
Genre: F/M, Warrior (2011) - Freeform, tommy conlon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2018-12-20 19:43:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 49,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11927919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkInterrupted/pseuds/InkInterrupted
Summary: Tommy Conlon is coming home.  To heal his body.  Mend his mind.   The longest, hardest fight of his life is about to begin, and this time he doesn't need a coach:  he needs a father.And a little less sass and sexy from the childhood friend down the street.  The last thing he needs to come to terms with while facing a uncertain future, is the girl synonymous with What If?Brendan found his happy ever after - can Kyla show Tommy he still has a chance for his own?





	1. On the T

Chapter One – On The “T”

(Pittsburgh - Eight Months After Sparta)

A few passengers on the early morning _T_ paused briefly for a look at the man tucked far into the back corner seat; his black wool cap pulled low on his forehead. If they recognized the local hero, all but swallowed up inside the over-sized hoodie, they never approached. The hard edge in his eyes and the intermittent scowl a sufficient deterrent. Most didn’t catch the slight wince that crossed his features each a time a bump of the tracks pushed his left shoulder against the side of the train. The pain shooting down to his elbow and leaving a tingling sensation in his fingers. Fingers that restlessly rubbed against one another as the trolley droned onward. Hooded eyes kept their focus on the passing landscape through the blur of a dozen different greasy fingerprints upon the window panes.

One particular young woman received a flicker of reaction, the grey eyes suddenly lightening as their focus rested briefly on her pleasing face and form. A shy smile his reward for risking the merest amount of human contact. Her own gaze lingered on the mesmerizing eyes, but it was the plump lips curled about a toothpick that truly caught her attention. The fullest, most tempting mouth she’d ever seen on a man and her tongue darted out to moisten her own parted lips as she quietly took her seat. Imagining the taste and feel of them moving hungrily upon her own. Her entire body. A heated flush rose in her cheeks even though the encounter was brief, and the man quickly turned back to his solitary gaze out the window. She watched as the toothpick rolled back and forth across his mouth while he kept huddled to himself.

The scenery rolled quickly past; everything both familiar and new. Tommy’s thoughts turned inward while his gaze remained outward. An odd kind of introspection in these cramped quarters. As if the mental baggage he carried had overcrowded the Ts size constraints. The toothpick chewed furiously – a bad habit he knows but couldn’t seem to shake. It was better than biting the inside of his cheek all to hell anyway. Or biting his lips when he was anxious – like he needed additional attention drawn to his most talked about feature. A bitter pill to swallow after so many hours spent in a gym toning the rest of his body to peak performance. He supposed a toothpick clenched tight between those lips didn’t exactly aid in distraction, but he couldn’t help it if his mouth drove women crazy. The habit kept him calm and helped him think. He chewed a lot of toothpicks in the last few years of his life.

His eyes darted towards the beautiful young woman and caught her gaze upon him. Eyes riveted. A slight smirk etched his normally closed off face when he considered it wasn’t necessarily all bad; this powerfully attractive feature he possessed. Especially since it had resulted in more than a few bodies moaning and clenching his hair in fistfuls under its sensual talents. Not recently though. Not even remotely recent had he enjoyed soft, feminine curves writhing beneath his hard muscles as his hips bucked and drove deep. He missed that feeling of first sinking into a warm, tight and willing pussy. The taste of a woman’s arousal and he inadvertently licked his lips as his eyes flicked across the aisle once more to find her slightly dazed gaze still resting on him. The blush still staining her cheeks and her own lips seductively parted. She was more than attractive enough to spend a few moments entertaining ideas, and he abandoned the introspective bent his mind had earlier sought to follow. There would be time for that later. The stir in his pants agreed and he shifted slightly to accommodate the thickness now growing in his briefs.

It had been too long and he definitely considered losing a couple of hours between those supple thighs now revealed in the short jean skirt as her legs unconsciously parted slightly. Those long limbs wrapped around his waist as he pumped furiously. Tommy suspected he probably fucked like he fought. Just another kind of catharsis he desperately needed and craved. Perhaps it was time to give in to what he had long denied himself – and what several months in a military prison had denied. He flashed a warm smile and his eyes lost that veiled sheen as he cast a flirty wink; rolling the toothpick slowly along his bottom lip. The woman’s jaw dropped and her legs parted wider. A sharp intake of breath that reached his ears down and across the aisle; the surest all clear sign he had heard in a long time. _Go weapons hard_ echoed in his mind as he held her gaze with an easy smile, that was in truth more self-congratulatory. Slowly he eased his toned body from the seat and within seconds his slow sauntered swagger breached her space. She damn near slid off the seat as he stood above her, alluring in his thinly veiled promise of power and more than a little mystery. Now that he’d crossed the distance, he hesitated suddenly uncertain.

His mind – that anxious and damaged part that still held a heap of hurt knocking around made a last feeble attempt to remind him this was not why he had returned home. As he gazed down upon her upturned face and felt the lengthening hardness that was no doubt visible in his track pants, he also realized: some urges, like pain, could only be silenced so long.

And some things never changed.

Tommy Conlon had never experienced any trouble attracting women. Keeping them around was another matter entirely. As he eased into the seat beside her, noting that she did not slid over to allow room, thus forcing his body close against her own, the delicate musky scent of desire was unmistakable. Almost as enticing to Tommy as the mixed scent of sweat and grit that mingled in a fighting gym. But first things first. He already knew this wasn’t remotely about the “keeping” – just a necessary step towards ending his long self-imposed and self-punishing celibacy. He rested a lean, strong hand on the top of her bare knee, his thumb caressing the soft skin. Working the toothpick around his mouth in a wide welcoming smile.

“Hello beautiful, I’m Tommy.”

She smiled shyly around a breathless reply, “Yes, I know.”

_Well then, some things had changed. Thanks to Sparta… and YouTube._

She mumbled a name as her eyes dipped down under the intense scrutiny of his own that bore straight through any idea of resistance. Tommy leaned closer, the soft shaven skin of his cheek grazing her own.

“Come again darling?”

Her breath sucked in a huge gulp as her chest heaved upward. He slanted his head to the side as he peered into her wide eyes. Her head was nodding in answer to a question he had not even asked.

Hell yeah. Tommy Conlon was back. And this time, things would be different.


	2. Necessary Comforts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy needs to let a little a stress off.... we're starting with a bang. Because Tommy Conlon isn't exactly a slow burn kinda guy.   
> The real test of endurance is yet to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW, sexual content

The apartment was modest but tastefully decorated. A little further out of his way than he had intended, but hardly something to complain about given the situation. The over-whelming amount of stuffed animals was another matter entirely. Their obvious age showing them to be remnants of a childhood she still clung to. A foreign notion to Tommy’s mind that forever was attempting to outrun his own fear filled tender years. Certainly there had been nothing soft and cuddly to hold close on lonely nights. Hell, he didn’t even have an apartment to hold any memories; his brain felt crowded enough carrying them around daily. Though, if he had something softer – he might have fought hard to keep it preserved as well. Yet, as he gazed upon a forlorn and ragged bear perched lopsided in a corner chair, it made him uneasy. To be witness to anothers’ exposed past only added to the anxiety surrounding his own haunted memories. Just not enough to prevent him from sitting and having the obligatory drink and small talk before he pulled her tight lithe body upon his lap and kissed her into silence.

Now her cramped kitchen was filled with the sounds of his ragged grunts and the slap of his hips against her bare ass. His balls slamming into the back of her thighs as he pounded into her softness from behind. Eyes focused on the red tipped fingers gripping the edge of the cheap tiled kitchen counter for support. Dimly aware that he is probably fucking her way too hard, but only the sound of deep moans come from her throat. With a grimace he relented on the pressure of his fingers around the tender flesh, but kept his grip on her hip tight as he glimpsed down to watch his hardness slide in and out of her wet center. Earning a squeak of pleasure in reply as he slowed his pace, drawing his long cock in and out of the glistening pink folds a few short strokes. Her back arched high and she pressed her ass back into his slow thrusts. Taking a deep breath he fought for control. He’d never had a problem holding back – but it had been awhile. He didn’t want this to go like one of his fights: a burst of power and control that ended abruptly with him exiting the ring barely before his opponent knew he had been there. The feelings were so intensely raw and new, he wanted to savor them a little longer.

Tommy smirked behind her back as he completely withdrew and she groaned the absence of his fullness. Staring down at her juices covering his entire hard shaft. Her sex clenching and quivering while he teased it with the smooth head. _Fuck he had missed this. How had he held out so long? He must be really fucking damaged to have denied himself such a complete blessed release._ Lifting a hip closer, he eased his hard and throbbing cock slowly inside the tight wetness with a satisfied grunt. He would have moaned her name, but it escaped him at the moment. Her own high pitched squeals while he thrust slow and deep inside suggesting she didn’t much care in the moment either. His gaze flicked briefly to the dimly lit ceiling before he squeezed his eyes shut tight. Enjoying the gliding friction as the heat rushed to his balls and his climax built towards eruption. Once again he eased off. This may be a casual one off, but he was still trying to be a gentleman. 

Opening his eyes, he released her hip and reached a hand around to cup her sex. Thumb pressing upon the engorged button and she bucked against his still sheathed cock, taking him deeper. Her cries became louder and more frequent and almost as greatly satisfying to his ears as the roar of a crowd cheering. The trembling in her legs telling him she was so close, followed by a fluttering felt upon his probing cock. With a deep groan he pulled out then plunged hard and deep; his thumb maintaining its own assault on her swollen clit. Her walls began to milk him hard and he released her sex to grasp her about the legs and raised them off the floor. Holding them spread-eagle in the air while he unleashed the full power of thrusting hips upon her firm little ass. Fucking her harder than before, her moans echoing about the room as she came; body shuddering under his onslaught. A white knuckled grip that was slowly losing its grip, finger by manicured finger, as he bucked against her with consuming force. 

“Oh fuck yes!”

Her enthusiasm spiraled along his spine and straight into balls tight with lust soon to erupt. He felt the tension build, his cock now thickly coated with her pussy cum ramming between jiggling ass cheeks. Groaning deep he set her feet back upon the floor, still thrusting wildly. With a final grunt he quickly pulled out and wrapped a hand tightly around his throbbing length. Hot and thick he spurt a load of cum along the curve of her ass and up the length of her back. The second pulse reaching all the way into her tangled mass of thick hair, and he felt a moment of both amazement and chagrin. His entire body flushed with the soothing warmth like liquid heat pouring into every cell. Recent tensions melting away with each contraction deep in his core. Feeling grateful and generous, he spun her around and clamped his mouth down on her tender lips. Gave her what had aroused her so much in the first place, as he ravished her mouth and felt her still trembling body weaken in his hold. She took everything he gave and moaned deep into his mouth when a hand reached down and gripped her still soaked sex; pushing two fingers deep inside. His palm thrust up against her sensitive bud while his lips devoured hers in a hungry take over. Moving along the curve of her cheek until they rested against her ear, while his fingers still thrust a rhythm; his voice a husky whisper against her skin.

“Come on beautiful. Cum for me again.”

She melted against the tight muscles of his chest, grasping the strong shoulders as she gave herself over to abandon under the deep strokes and thrusts of his lean fingers. A moment of regret entered her mind that they had moved so quickly. Intuitively knowing this was a one time encounter. Too bad because she could happily ride his dick seven ways from Sunday and still want more. The grim lines that still etched his features suggesting there was a story to be told behind those guarded eyes; beautiful and deep and silent. She knew only part of his history, but as the second climax shattered upon her and his breath came hot and heavy on her skin while the growing hardness fell thick upon her thigh, she had only one thought.

_This man fucked like a champ!_

She gripped him tighter as he easily lifted and spun her around to rest on the edge of her small dining table. Barely positioned himself between her legs before thrusting deeply inside her clenching walls while growling how _fucking good she felt_ in her ear. Her legs wrapped like a vise about his bucking hips. Round two had begun. As his wide girth stretched her even wider she wondered how long he could go like this. The pleasure even more incredible the second time as he knew exactly how she liked it. The man paid attention and moved like a dream. Her head tipped back with wave after wave of unrelenting pleasure washing over her. _God she’d never been fucked like this and he’d barely broken a sweat._ He winked slowly at her surprised gaze and she prayed it meant he had another few rounds left. 

Despite what TV news might have told her, she clearly was not personally familiar with the Tommy Conlon warrior spirit. 

It wasn’t over until Tommy left the ring.

~

Old habits being hard to break, he quietly eased his bulk from beneath silky limbs tangled about his own, just as dawn’s early light peeked through the frilly laced window curtains. He frowned through a squint and peered closer for confirmation. Brows raised at the unicorns and rainbows within the pattern. Definite childhood issues. Takes one to know one. Silently he shuffled around the minefield of other emotional supports of the stuffed variety that littered the floor. Exiled from their position on the bed, they lay still with frozen eyed surprise, gazing up at him with silent judgement. Having spent the night with… _Tammy? Tina? No, Tonya._ He found it hard to begrudge her whatever comforts she found necessary in this often cruel world. His own thoughts had circled around his brain once sleep had easily claimed her, one arm resting lightly upon his firm chest. He wasn’t fluffy that was for sure, but obviously she had deemed him a suitable replacement for one night. He glanced about the room, eyes briefly touching her face still resting in deep slumber. It was supposed to be a dine and dash, but he’d lingered longer than expected. Might be interesting to question why, but his shoulders shrugged their indifference as he toed a polka dotted giraffe from under foot. _Odd how his balls being lighter caused his thoughts to become heavier._ He smirked in the semi dark, a sudden pain in his chest as he wished his brother Brendan had been able to hear that eloquent conclusion.

The truth was, he had not meant to spend the night in her bed. Fluffy consorts competing for space not withstanding. Except Tonya had proven to not only be one sweet, delicious fuck, but rather easy company as well. After one amazing fuck against the hallway wall that left his legs trembling like jello from the exertion and her a moaning heap upon the floor, they eventually found their way to her bed. There Tommy had given her the full talents of his mouth while she gripped the headboard and writhed her pussy upon his face like a woman possessed. His body drained of stress and tension, he had found it easy to engage in some brief pillow talk. Surprised to find it rather nice to ramble aimlessly over topics he normally had little time or patience to discuss. He had been out of the world so long, it was a slow and easy transition back to reality. Her soft voice and quick humour easing the passage. _Damned if he would come back and watch that DownAlley or whatever shit though. Period drama? Sounded like something any man would want to avoid._ Though he couldn’t complain about the amazing feel of her warm, wet mouth worshiping his cock while an episode played in the background. He’d never blown his load to posh English accents discussing politics before. Interesting that. If she included an amazing blow job in the deal, he just might be tempted to endure an entire marathon. 

He had shied away from anything too personal, not wishing to discuss the private pains of his life with someone who had likely watched his Sparta fights several times and fantasized about just this kind of night. Hell, he’d never really discussed his hurts with anyone in the whole entirety of his life. His fists usually spoke all his rage; delivered hard and fast and with little remorse. The only form of speech he truly excelled at was bitter sarcasm and hard truths laced with venom as he flung them without mercy. He cringed remembering how his father had been the most recent recipient and what that had caused. Tommy Conlon could lay just about any one out with a well delivered punch, or the equivalent in a verbal jab; but he sure as hell wasn’t letting anyone into his own tormented head. Heart wasn’t even a question. 

As he cast a last glance at her sleeping form, he briefly considered climbing back under the sheets. Maybe take her nice and slow and soft in the morning light. Linger over breakfast. She was beautiful, that was undeniable. Real sweet too it seemed. Definitely could continue fucking her frontways, backways, sideways and countless other ways before he grew bored. And yet – he felt no great pull to stay. Nothing to hold him here awhile to even learn the secret behind treasured and tattered collection of furred, and forever mute companions. Certainly no desire to spill his own guts. That probably made him an asshole. Except he was done with living lies. He knew already he’d be staying out of a sense of being the good guy; despite the fact he didn’t feel much like a good guy most of the time anyway. He had come home to heal his body, and maybe even his mind. To mend the past. Though she had gotten him off to a great start – he smirked once again – _dammit Brendan you’re missing some great shit here_ – she wasn’t a part of the process. This was a need of another kind that had been memorably met; and was now done. It sounded harsh, but he figured pretending would be harsher in the end. He was fairly certain no woman wanted to hear she was just a pit stop along the highway of life, so he quietly took his leave.

He hoped the small, stuffed dog he had tucked under his arm was not too great of sentimental value. Hopefully she would consider it a compliment –that he’d taken it to remember her. In truth it was a reminder to himself.

Everyone had to let go of their past at some point.


	3. Making It Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy finds himself back on the T - looking back, but moving forward. He's gonna need a bit more help sorting out his life, than a stuffed dog can offer. 
> 
> Warnings: tough and rough bean in need of cuddles.

He was moving towards greater things. Though the irony that he was back on the T was not lost on him. The soft plush of the stuffed dog tucked inside his hoodie and his mind busy rolling through possible names. At least it wasn’t a step backwards – just a brief side step. Once again he pulled his cap low and shrunk into the corner of his seat, the loose folds of his hoodie concealing the tight and toned body beneath. Frowning slightly as the pain rolled along his left arm with each bump and or jostling motion of the train. Now that was a very real part of his healing process. Thankfully prisons had well equipped gyms and he’d been able to keep up his fitness regime. Only as far as the injured arm allowed – the pain returning time and time again as he fought to push himself further. If he wanted to fight again, he knew it meant physical therapy was in his future. _IF. He. Ever. Fought._ His eyes dropped to the floor as the uncertainty of the words left a hollow pit in his stomach. He had thought it was something he wanted so badly. _Did losing snuff out his killer instinct?_ The loss of the money he had intended to give to Manny’s widow perhaps his only motivation? Did the unleashed rage he felt every time he stepped into the ring still sing its’ siren’s call in the back of his mind? The power he felt in letting it free was more addicting than anything he’d ever felt. Still not a proper reason to fight he reckoned though.

Today he was unaware of the feminine attention he attracted as he gave himself over to the suspended introspection. Taking no notice of flirty heavily made up lids and spidery mascara eyelashes as the uncertain future loomed before him. Sitting so quiet and still he was amazed he found it hard to summon up the familiar pangs of bitterness, resentment and anger. As though they had just leaked out of his body somewhere along the journey of the past couple of months. Rage seemingly dissipating from his pores perhaps when the final blow had come and his brother held his broken and battered body tight against his own battle weary form. Refusing to let him go, and his trainer formed a protective circle leading them away from the ring and the pressing throng. And still his brother clung tight. Tommy’s good gloved hand clamped over his brother’s that clutched just above his heart. Brendan only relinquished his hold when he was placed under military arrest and lead under guard from the arena. His mind still echoing the desperation and misery in Brendan’s voice as he called his name. Not even a five million dollar purse could keep him from the side of the little brother he had once lost, and now reclaimed.

Tommy wiped the brimming wetness quickly from his eyes. Resisted the temptation to give that soft fur inside his coat a comforting squeeze. _Damn, it wasn’t even a real dog._ But the weepy eyes is becoming a far too alarming occurrence since he’d been released. His hands nervously rubbed together; fingers clenching and knuckles cracked as he recalled how Brendan never stopped fighting for him. Whether it was time away from his own family to attend the court marshal, or visiting him in the stockade while he awaited the outcome. Another frown lined his face and he bite his lips hard knowing that his prize money had been spent on Tommy’s defense; despite his loud and angry protests. He could summon a spark of anger now over that little matter. Still, he could hardly argue against the results: a newly forged relationship with the brother he had once looked up to so long ago before life and hard choices created a great divide. A smile flirted in the corners of his mouth as he recalled the loud cheer from his comrades when the honourable discharge from the Marines was given. Normally stoic, even Tommy couldn’t hide just how much that decision meant to him. The support of his former Brothers In Arms when he was in desperate need. That instilled pride still rose strong within him: he couldn’t let them down. Tommy Conlon had to prove his worth and make something of himself. He owed them that much in this life. Because Tommy Conlon had for some unknown reason been chosen to live.

He had spent enough time in a prison cell during the long trial and awaiting a decision to gain more than an aching case of blue balls. The insights that had come to him concerning life and love and to the point the choices we make about each, finally tipped the balance of his emotional scales to the forgiving side. A fortune had granted Brendan and his family a new lease on life, and he didn’t begrudge his brother that win. He had earned it. He gave him mad respect. Besides it was hard to hate a winner who was unfailingly generous with his bounty and shared it without a second thought. His brother was good people. He realized a lot of that had to do with Tess and it was then the significance of his brother’s choice so many years ago hit him hard. Tess was good people too. And beautiful. And those two little girls were precious gifts that Brendan doted on without reserve. When he finally could feel proud of his big brother, all the resentment and blame washed away. He’d made the right choice for him. Tommy still felt the burden of having his own choice stripped away, and he knew if he was going to plug the holes of his past and move forward like Brendan, he had to deal with those emotions regarding his father.

Even Paddy Conlon had chosen his new path in life. Still walked it one day at a time, despite Tommy’s repeated attempts to make sure his past shadowed each new step. He chewed the inside of his cheek to keep fresh tears at bay; knowing it was his own unrelenting, angry remarks that had caused his relapse. He had taken no pleasure in the fall; a great surprise even to himself. It was just one of many steps backwards Tommy had not been around to witness, but bolstered by his son’s compassion, and the courage of the brothers to mend their feud, Paddy had found new strength to soldier on. It was true he had made many mistakes: but his sons were the best part of him. Here was something Tommy might finally learn from his father; besides the power of a well-timed punch. Tommy eased back in his seat and hoped his eyes were not too red rimmed as he once again watched the landscape that had changed during another absence. Hands still fidgeting upon his lap as he realized that time seemed to have marched on for everyone but him. Still riding the trolley of his youth and still trapped by the pain he thought he’d given its’ own kind of discharge. Long nights in a cell had revealed the truth – he’d never really emptied that pain. He’d just made room for more.

Each choice had set him backwards. Bitterness and being unwilling to forgive had kept him rooted in the past. The apathetic face he wore just a mask that hid the turmoil of emotions held tightly in check; until unleashed in strictly controlled acts of violence. Everything he touched seemed to turn to dust and he knew now it wasn’t just because he had run away from his past, or his Marine Unit – Tommy had run away from himself. And there was no honour in that. It made him physically ill. Adding to the sick feeling was the fact that the man he now returned to – the man he had spent half a life time nursing a seething hatred towards – actually had more honour in owning his sins and his choices. A man who had the courage to stand before a son who showed him nothing but contempt and simply ask for a chance. _The old man had some balls afterall._ A twisted smile came now as he considered the irony it was his father he now returned to seek guidance regarding reclaiming the life he had lost. It took one to know one. The memory of holding his drunken father in that Atlantic City hotel room came flooding back. But it wasn’t the smell of booze, or the crumbling weight of his brokenness that Tommy carried, that he remembered. It was the words he sobbed upon his son’s shoulder.

_We’re lost. We’re lost. We’ll never make it back._

__

Well he had come back home. And he instinctively knew that the journey towards forgiving himself was going to be the hardest fight of all. This time he wasn’t coming home for a coach.

This time, he needed a father.


	4. Timing is Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just sitting on the steps letting the past roll by.

Life never makes anything easy for a troubled soul, and thus it was no surprise to Tommy that when he finally summoned the will and courage to get his ass back home to his father’s house; Paddy Conlon was invariably absent. Tommy shook his head in silent amusement as he sat on the front stoop of his childhood home. Pulling the stuffed animal out of his hoodie and inspecting it while a catalogue of names filtered through his head. Frowning at the button eyes, he set it down beside him on the step and let his mind wander to other things. Unfortunately his mind recalled that this was exactly how their last encounter began and he wasn’t sure if that was a bad omen – or just par for the course of his often shitty life. Once more his hands wrung out his circling thoughts and the toothpick saved his cheek further bruising. At least this time he would be greeting his father sober. And he hoped the same could be said for Paddy.

Shifting against the cold concrete on his ass, his eyes darted about the old neighborhood. _The ‘Burgh sure ain’t changed much._ Which bode shitty for old houses, but with the ghost of a smile he noted that it still showed signs of neighborly activity in the cool early evening. Though it saddened him to see just how much less it was than the days of his own youth. Fuck, he sounded ancient and he swiped a backhand across his mouth; pulling the toothpick out. Still, it was a shame people spent less time outdoors actually conversing with their fellow urban dwellers, than he remembered back in the day of street hockey, bbq’s and water hoses. Though to be sure, most always cast a critical eye towards the Conlon home. Some secrets are not always as secret as you might think – or wish them to be. Reflecting back he knew it was mostly Brendan’s outgoing nature that saved the family from complete social exile. Then the brothers’ gifted athleticism soon making them local heroes. Tommy eventually rising above his older brother and he still remembered the way his hope and heart would soar when those exploits got his father’s attention. The right kind of attention. It had never occurred to him that he was leaving his older brother in the dust. Until that fateful day he actually left his brother and his father in the dust. 

He sighed deeply and tossed the splintered toothpick to the curb. Since the fight in Atlantic City, he understood now that they both had been following a path of their own brand of unconditional love. Unfortunately they went in different directions, but knowing how life had turned out for his brother, it was getting harder to hold onto that resentment. The twist of fate that saw him watching someone he loved die, while Brendan got to watch his loved ones grow. Maybe if he had a sweetheart by his side while he watched his mother cough up blood, it might not have been such a lonely, hard existence. Yeah, having seen Tess with her beautiful blonde hair and melting smile – sure made it harder to hold a grudge. Leaning back on his elbows, he signed heavily and thought _a girl like Tess_ … well, not exactly like Tess. But then he’d been too young to see the future that might be. His eyes flicked down the street where a boy and girl sat upon their own front steps happily licking Popsicle juice from their fingers. Even from a distance he could see the purple stains drip down her young, tanned legs. The scent of cherry filled his senses, rolling the years back in a pink haze.  
~

_Her long, dainty finger trailed along the pink stained line atop her thigh and she raised it to her mouth, licking the juice from its tip. An unfamiliar tightening clench in his gut caused Tommy to shift uncomfortably where he sat on the cool step beside her. A piece of her hair had stuck in a similar stained patch upon her cheek and he was tempted to free it from its sticky prison. Instead his eyes traveled across tanned cheeks until they rested on full cherry stained lips stretched into a pretty pout, as she sucked the Popsicle juice dripping down her other fingers. His stomach clenched further and this time he definitely felt a similar feeling in his pants. As if the typical hormonal surges of adolescences were not bad enough, now he was almost popping a tent in his shorts over the thought of his childhood friend’s pink stained lips wrapped around his rising dick. His nerves were already on edge wondering if his father would wake from his drink induced sleep in one of his rages. He averted his gaze as the tightening coil changed to a sickening roll over having such thoughts about Kyla. Though she was very pretty – especially with those luminous green eyes that unflinchingly held his own so often. She was unwavering in her loyality. A hard to come by trait for the often whispered about Conlon family. Maybe he should consider it? Just a kiss that is. He certainly didn’t expect Kyla Prior from four doors down to take his young and untried cock into her mouth. Certainly not like those women he had glimpsed in the magazines his brother hid under his mattress. That was too much for a fourteen year old boy to dream. Still, he never could erase the thought of her lips tasting like cherry after that day._

_“Your mom looked real pretty today.” Her head slanted and one eye squinted from the low rays of the setting sun. “I really liked her dress.”_

_Tommy shifted, ill at ease, knowing that it was unlikely she had also failed to notice the faint bruise still visible under several layers of artfully applied make up. Though Kyla would never mention such a thing even if she had noticed; choosing to focus on the beauty that years of beatings had still not managed to subdue. Tommy may have even loved her a little bit for that; if he had even known what love was. Instead he hunched his shoulder and mutely smiled before ducking his head. Grateful that she would still sit with him eating Popsicle on a summer’s eve when surely she had better options. He glanced up and her eyes were held fast upon him. His heart began a thumping pattern in his chest as his finger reached out and freed the trapped tendril from the cherry stain. A single drop dotted his fingertip and unthinking, he licked it clean. His vision filled with the parting of her juicy covered lips and the bright green gaze upon his full mouth. He blinked several times, his own breath catching and the neighborhood sounds are drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears. His finger reached out once more, hesitantly brushed the tendril behind her ear and lingered on the side of her neck for the briefest moment. Her soft sigh split the silence and something changed in the air between them. All the years of youthful games, summer camps, after school cartoons sliding back; leaving a tiny space for something new. Unknown. Her head tipped towards his own and he got the lightest taste of cherry Popsicle lips before the thundering bellows of a woken Paddy Conlon erupted from inside the house. Green eyes widened in alarm and Tommy quickly grasped her hand, pulling her to her feet._

_“Go now – quickly!”_

_She gave a squeeze of his hand and a shy peck on his cheek before flying down the steps and out onto the sidewalk towards her own home._

Back in the present, Tommy’s eyes slowly eased open, letting the memory slip back into the past; just as the old Chevy rumbled to a stop along the curb. He willed the bitterness from his smile, but the thought came unbidden.

_Your timing has never been right, has it Pop?_


	5. Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy comes home and struggles to sort out his next steps, while his father is still taking his day by day. 
> 
> Warnings: 18+, masturbation, mentions of domestic violence, alcoholism

_Déjà vu._

His ass sat on the same cold step watching the slow movements of his father’s body as it unfolded from the old car. How many months later and he had got no further ahead. Except he was sober this time. He hoped he could say the same for Paddy. The stab of guilt that it may be his own fault should his father’s first steps toward him be of an unsteady gait. His head ducked low and he chewed the inside of his cheek hard. An impatient swipe of the back of his hand across his face when his father stood frozen still halfway up the walk.

“Hey Pop.”

Paddy stood straight – thank god – and stared back at the son who’d left, returned, left again… and now sat upon his step with that half smirk, half hesitant grin upon his face as if caught in the same holding pattern. Most fathers know their sons, a claim Paddy could not make; yet he saw the uncertainty in Tommy’s eyes. Whatever his reasons for returning, it didn’t matter. His boy was home.

“Tommy. Thought ya got out couple months back?”

“Yeah ya know I did Pop, but I ah… I knocked around for a bit ya know.”

His father’s head nodded slowly and he continued walking up the pathway until he stood before him.

“Yeah, how’d that work out for ya?”

Tommy’s head ducked once more and rolled awkwardly about while his hand rubbed the back of his neck. His gaze remained on the lower step. He couldn’t bring himself to tell his father it hadn’t gone well. Not at all. That he was lost and floundering, his pride keeping his lips tightly compressed. Shit, he should have just bunked at Tina…. Tonya’s place another night. Lord knows he’d feel a lot fucking better than he did right now. Feeling the weight of his father’s gaze upon him, he shifted on the step, a sarcastic remark just waiting to pass his lips. He breathed deep, not wanting the same start as the last time. It needed to be different his time. He lifted his gaze and saw the concern in his father’s own, but also a wealth of patience. Shrugging his shoulders, his gaze shifted around to nothing in particular. 

“Well you know, it was fine for a bit there, but now I just need to find something a little more… I don’t know Pop…” his voice slowly trailed off.

Paddy saw the same look in his eyes as the boy who once earnestly sought his attention and approval and his mind transported back in time to when he both desperately sought it, and impatiently turned from it. Too lost in his own uncertainties of life. As his father climbed the steps with some difficulty, Tommy’s brow furrowed wondering when he had become so old and weary; though the hand that gripped his shoulder as he passed still had strength.

“Well come on in Tommy. I’ll put the coffee on and we’ll figure it out.”

The house looked exactly the same as when Tommy left. Both times. Nothing seemed to ever change within its walls; except perhaps the man who occupied them. His eyes following his father’s slow movements of preparing coffee and cutting a slice of pie from his favourite diner. The shakiness of his hands not unnoticed. Tommy refrained from any comment regarding that matter for now, choosing to observe closely for a few days before addressing the any subject of Paddy’s health. A cup of coffee was set before him, but the pie held just out of reach. He lifted his eyes.

“You training or this okay?”

The first genuine smile split his face as he reached for the warm slice of what smelled like apple heaven. “Nah, it’s good Pop, thanks.”

The details of his recent wanderings spilled out over the warm brew and dessert, Tommy talking more than he had to any one soul since he had been incarcerated. With the possible exception of his brother Brendan who he had spent a few weeks with when he was first released. Although between his brother’s constant life, love and other worldly advice, which amounted to about ten years’ worth of missed older brother imparted wisdom, and the constant chatter of his two daughters; Tommy barely got a word in at all. It was Tess who would sit across the table from him once everyone else had left the house for school and work, and somehow manage to pull his tangled thoughts from his head. It only took but one heart to heart conversation for Tommy to settle in his mind that Brendan had made a wise choice all those years ago. He had gained something, while Tommy had lost, but the choice of losing his brother? That was one Tommy made on his own. A light entered his father’s eyes as he relayed the details of his visit and for the first time Tommy thought that just maybe people could actually change. That there truly could be joy in the morning after the battle. Though he had no idea how to get there. 

He had served just under two months, most of which was mainly time waiting before and during the trial. Then a few weeks to process his Honorable Discharge and this news seemed to also please his father greatly. The concern slowly releasing from his face, though his eyes still held uncertainty for his youngest. 

“So what have you been doing since then? Where did ya live…. Tommy you could have come home at any time.”

Tommy waved a hand in the air, scratched his neck. “Hell, I know that Pop. I took odd jobs here and there. Stayed YMCA and shit…sometimes on an old army buddies couch, or spare room if I was lucky.” He shrugged as if it was no big deal.

It was a big deal. Even knowing as little about his son as he did, Paddy could tell when a man’s pride had taken a hit. That was something he knew all too well himself. The impact of his son’s words about liking him better as a drunk still cutting his heart like a knife. He was so weak then. Full of self-loathing and lacking any self worth. Now he was slowly building back again. He knew all about picking up pieces; time and time again. The pink chip retrieved from where it lay in a dish upon the table and he rolled it back and forth across his fingers as he held his son’s gaze. Tommy knew the significance of those chips and felt the guilt rise up within his gut, twisting his conscience and the last bite of pie turned bitter on his tongue. 

“Coming up on six months.”

Tommy shifted in his chair, made to push back from the table. “Pop…”

His father’s voice rose, though he held no anger.

“No, no you sit back down son.” Tommy hesitated, both hands gripping the edge of the table while he looked anywhere but at his father. “You sit down, so you can listen to me good. Go on now - sit down.”

Tommy settled in the chair once more, every cell in his body bracing for an impact that couldn’t be avoided and he knew he deserved it. Though his body language displayed all the haughty indifference of a teen in front of the principal for his latest infraction.

“It ain’t yer fault, okay?”

His eyes darted upward, settled somewhere about the bridge of Paddy’s nose.

His fingers swirled through the various coloured chips in the bowl; some old, some recently earned. Again. “That’s what these are all about Tommy. Just stepping day by day. I don’t need no excuse to drink. But the steps Tommy…. well I get stuck on some of those.” His father leaned back in the chair, while Tommy hesitantly lifted his gaze. “Take step nine son. Making amends. Now I owe a lot of words to a lot of people. Some I did just that. Hurt like hell at first, but I did it. Swallowed it down like the bitter pill it was.” His voice broke suddenly. “But I ah… I .. couldn’t do it for your mom. And when ya left, and then after the trial, well I couldn’t do it with you either. So I’m a bit stuck here Tommy… just like you it seems.”

The silence fell heavy in the room. Tommy’s brain spinning between his feelings of guilt concerning his old man falling off the wagon, and a rising anger that he was blaming him for his failure at the steps. A confusing paradox of emotion. _Blame me that I had to leave this hell? What the hell was that?!_ His father sensed the warring emotions across the table. The body tensed and lingering on the edge of retreat once more. Knew his son would regret that habit if he didn’t learn to break the pattern.

“Now you might find step nine helpful yourself son. Taking a close and fearless moral inventory of yourself….”

Tommy’s face flushed red and he pushed away from the table, coming quickly to his feet. Finally meeting his father’s eyes, but all the former hate and resentment filled his gaze. He shook his head.

“Nah. Nah Pop. Those ain’t my steps.” A lean finger raised and pointed as he leaned over the table. “I ain’t you. I don’t need to see you.”

His father merely offered a brittle, sad smile. “I didn’t tell you to look at me Tommy.”

He rose from the table, depositing his mug and plate in the broken tiled sink. Shuffling past, he lay a gentle hand on his sons’ shoulder, gave what he hoped was an encouraging squeeze. Tommy flinched under his touch, but didn’t move away. His gaze focused on the rainbow array of discs in the chipped bowl he remembered eating his Cheerios in at this very table with Brendan. Their mother hushing them with urgent pleas so as to not wake their father.

“Bedroom’s as you left it son. Coffee will be in the pot until 0600.”

Tommy stood alone in the kitchen with a host of memories flooding every corner. Every dirt smudge on the faded wall paper and scuff mark upon the tiled floor. Nope, nothing much had changed.

And somehow everything had changed. He could feel the sensation swirling sickly in the pit of his stomach. Clawing along his skin and he didn’t like it at all. One thing had changed in this house.

Now his father felt sorry for him.

~

Tommy lay in bed staring up at his old ceiling, the stuffed dog resting on the hard lines of his stomach. A frown creased his forehead as he chewed an old toothpick – god knows how damn old but it was needed, as he thought over what his father said about not being able to make amends because he had left. Like it was his fault. Thinking back over those years, as his hand stroked along the soft fur, he realized he had a heap of responsibility on his shoulders long before he was emotionally ready. It suddenly dawned on him that his decision to leave with his mother – to rescue her from his father’s abuse and alcoholism – he started a life long pattern of trying to save people. Being needed by others gave him a purpose. A hero an even better means of being useful. He didn’t know why, but he was pretty sure this epiphany was going to be vital to his progress. As he held the softness of the stuffed dog against his chest, it occurred to him he had never felt more worth or value in his whole life, than when he was a Marine. And yet he had walked away from that too.

Rising to the occasion; even if it was extreme and dangerous. Walking away when the emotions overwhelmed. A tug of war push and pull that just kept bringing him back to the same spot, instead of moving forward. He always felt like his life was completely out of control… except in the ring. Routines and regiments and ranks, those he understood. Knew how to navigate and fine tune. He could excel under those conditions – because there was a Control. Everything outside of that he tried to grasp – collapsed. His eyes met the glazed lifeless ones of the dog.

“What is my plan B?”

The expression returned remained void of any emotion, let alone hint of an answer.

“Yay, what do I do now little guy?” His eyes narrowed. “Well, first I need to give you a name if you’re gonna stay here with me.”

His head swiveled as he gave the stuffed dog a thorough once over. It was the very epitome of cuteness. Brandon’s two girls would probably love it. So of course it needed a tough name. The toothpick rolled across the full lips and then came to a stop in the corner as his mouth pulled into a smirk.

“Devil Dog. You know what that is, eh? That’s a Marine buddy. I know ya look cute as fuck and all, but I think you and me is gonna go through some tough shit here ok? So ya need a suitable name.”

He patted the dog on the head and then placed it beside him on the single bed. 

“Yeah, DD for short I think. Your call sign buddy. A little secret between us right. You can keep secrets right DD? Because that’s going to be important.”

Suddenly realizing he was talking aloud to a stuffed toy, Tommy snorted and cursed aloud. _I must be really losing it._ It’s not like him and in the back of mind, he knows this. Focus. Train. Breathe. Hit hard. These are things Tommy knows. When he commits, he does so fully. Throwing himself to the task at hand – narrow focus and absolute tenacity. So why had he abandoned his unit?? He has no answer right now. A heavy sigh is the only sound in the small room, and he feels the tension build within again. The desperate need to seek an outlet that will give him that hard and fast release he craves.

The only thing he knows to do, the footsteps that are second nature to him… are those taken in the ring. He needs to get back to the gym and train. If nothing else, to keep his mind from circling and driving him further crazy. Tommy wasn’t the sort to just sit… and he’d done enough of that already. And he was tired of wandering aimlessly: he needed action. And then the exhausted release into oblivion that followed. He can already feel the tension mounting, muscles cramped and aching; and to his dismay the ache in his balls. _From reflective introspection to horny teen in 3 seconds – great Tommy._ His mind calls up the images from the night spent with Tonya - his dick hardening painfully immediately. Leaning back on the bed imagining pushing into that luscious body with a fury again and releasing all this pent up aching emotion. His hands move inside the gray sweatpants to grasp his throbbing length with no gentleness. His tugging frantic and hurried – he just wants to get there. This release. The images keep shifting; her curves changing. Pale skin to tanned legs. Green eyes… His breath coming in pants and he sucks a huge gulp of air as the memory flashes uninvited and he cums in shuddering violent spurts. An eruption that leaves him almost faint…. and slightly sick as he acknowledges the image he held while he climaxed was not Tonya’s full mouth milking his cock, but juicy red lips on a popsicle.

_Christ, there had to be something wrong with him._

He eased off the bed and searched about the dresser for a Kleenex box, spying one hidden under gym clothes tossed during his last stay in this room. Leaning forward his eyes caught a movement outside the window. Squinting into the darkness, he was sure he saw two figures entering her old house down the street. A man and a woman. Well it only figured someone else lived there now. Everyone moved on; except Tommy. The bitter truth of it hitting him while he lay in the same bed he had masturbated in as a teen and now cleaned himself up in as a grown ass man. With a flick of his wrist he tossed the wadded up dirty Kleenex in a perfect arc that landed in the wastebasket across the room. A brief flicker of a smile flashed. Not enough to offer him any real comfort, much like the stuffed dog he fell asleep clutching to his chest, while his dreams bounced about in various shades or red: the blood of the sick, the blood of the dying. Clotted in the haunted eyes and perfectly made up face of his mother. Congealed and stinking in trenches of mud littered with broken bodies. Woven in between the in-congruent icy drips of sweetness that had for some reason stuck in his brain. A lifeline to grasp and pull him from the darkness. The violence of the dreams shifting to bodies wrapped and writhing beneath his own straining form. A shift that leaves him uncomfortable even in his dreams. The cries of the impassioned echoes with the dying man’s tortured screams and Tommy is swiftly brought to the surface; heaving great gulps of air and bathed in sweat. The painful hardness of his dick causing a sickly feeling in the pit of his gut. The violent images slowly fading in his brain and the sweat on his body turns cold.

_Fuck, there is something wrong with me._

Restless and disturbed he quickly rose from the bed and shedding his damp clothing, shuffled towards the bathroom. The water from the shower hot and cleansing both memory and any lingering dreams away as he grasped his throbbing hardness and brought himself to an uneasy fulfillment. His head resting against the cool tile walls and tears mingling with the steamy spray, as he grunted through another climax that was a concerning blend of pain and pleasure. His body held rigid despite the release, as he stood numbly watching all the aching, spent offerings of his body circling the drain. Another truth stealing his breath with a gasp.

Through all the years. All the rages. All the bruises glimpsed over breakfast on his mother’s face. The heavy blows stoically accepted as his own fate. The fallen bodies of comrades; brothers. More deaths than he can ever count. He had not shed a single tear. And now he couldn’t seem to stop.


	6. Close and Fearless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy's always been better at listening to his body than his inner thoughts ...

The sun had climbed high enough in the sky that the cramped room beneath the attic rafters was almost bathed in darkness once again. Just a flickering brightness filtered through the swaying leaves from the tree beyond the dirty paned window. It was the persistent barking of a dog outside that roused Tommy from a deep slumber; eyes peeling slowly open and blinking drowsily about the room. They came to rest on the stuffed dog that he held clutched to his chest while the barking continued in the neighboring yard. His brow furrowed as it took a moment to realize the two dogs were not related in sight and sound, and he impatiently tossed the stuffed one to the foot of the bed. Slowly stretching his long length and yawning widely; wincing when the left shoulder pulled tight. Moving his body though some stretches at a more leisurely pace as he sought out various aches; unhurried in what seemed like the early morning hours in the shadowed room. Rolling onto his side, his eyes sought the glowing digits of the clock, curious as to how much time remained before the buzz of the alarm. Judging from the various clicking sounds and tightness felt, he definitely needed to hit the gym today. One hand reached down to squeeze the flat, ripped lines of his stomach before gliding further down to adjust the semi hardness in his pants. Lingering for a moment he squeezed the growing fullness - allowing the remnants of the previous night thoughts to run free across his mind. Eyes squeezing shut as the heat surged and a few tugs to encourage the moment before his eyes opened and settled upon clock numbers.

“Fuck!”

Tommy leapt from the bed, early morning wood forgotten. Especially given the clock told him it was early afternoon. Standing in the middle of the cramped room with a confused look on his face; a third glance at the glowing digits hoping they would miraculously change before his still drowsy eyes. He rubbed his chin while standing still, but they shone back the completely unacceptable hour of 1:06 pm.

He never slept in.

Not as a child. Nor a teenager who had numerous sports games and training. Especially not when he had to keep one ear tuned to the hacking coughs of his dying mother. And most certainly not as a Marine. Prison life proving even more strictly regimented than the Army. Disoriented, a film of sweat broke out over his entire body as he turned about the room. Panic rising as the notion pounded upon his brain that he should be doing something. Going somewhere. The anxiety at not knowing what, or where bringing a cold chill. With a deep inhale of breath, he collapsed back down on the bed; chest rapidly rising and falling. Years of strict routines had left their mark and now that the necessity of rising for some actual purpose or duty was removed, he floundered beneath this gift of free time. Brows furled and he shifted his weight to pull the stuffed dog on which he had sat from beneath. Heard the click within his shoulder as he pulled it free. Firm resolve replaced the confused paleness of his face as he patted the dog once and sat it in the more honorable position of his pillow. Standing to his feet he strode purposely towards the shower, shutting down anymore thoughts while the steamy jet of water hit his toned body. Tommy was never very good at listening to those inner thoughts, but he did know how to listen to his body. Ignoring the erection that demanded his attention he scolded himself sharply. No more tugging in his bedroom like a horny teen. It was time to put the body through its paces. He’d deal with his mind later. And if he did a good workout today, maybe he’d go visit Tonya for the other.

~

Tommy dashed down the steps, gym bag slung over his shoulder, just as the old Chevy rumbled up to the curb. As he stood slightly to the edge of the property waiting for a word with his father, a cab also pulled alongside and he immediately recognized old Mrs. Donnelly from next door. He could still hear a faint ringing in his ears from the last encounter he had as a child before moving away. Hell I can’t believe the old bat is still alive. She’s got to be over a hundred now for fuck sakes. However, Marine codes never die and he hurried forward to assist her with the bags of groceries the driver was lifting from the trunk.

“Here Mrs. Donnelly…. let me help you with those. It’s Tommy….”

Years of fight training still didn’t give him fast enough reflexes to duck her flying purse and it landed with a clang of jingling change on what was thankfully his right arm. 

“I know who the hell you are Tommy Conlon.” Her finger raised and wiggled in front of his astonished face and he did his best to hide a smirk. Still full of fire, old bitty. “You and that brother of yours broke my window five times playing that damn ball in the street every single night. ‘Bout drive me mad listening to that thing bounce for hours.”

Tommy ducked his head and put his most charming smile forth. “I’m real sorry about that Mrs. Donnelly.”

Whether it was due to old age and memory lapse, or just because she didn’t give a shit, despite the purse beating she still passed the bags into Tommy’s outstretched arms. Dutifully he followed her up the pathway and stairs, catching his father’s amused grin from where he stood at their own steps. He rolled his eyes and his father laughed.

“What the hell do you want Paddy? I ain’t got time for any of your shit today either.” 

Paddy stretched his arms out wide, “Good afternoon Mrs. Donnelly. Roses are looking lovely ‘bout now.”

“They got something eating at them.” Her critical eye swept him from head to toe. “Expecting ya might know a little something ‘bout that.” 

Paddy covered his heart with his hand as though wounded and she shook her gray head and marched into the house; Tommy holding his laughter as he followed. The house was pretty much the same as his own next door, just with a little more feminine touch by way of knitted and fake flower shit everywhere. At least she wasn’t one of those old hermit types who kept the drapes and windows shut all the hours, and he walked into a clean kitchen bursting with light. He set the bags down on the same table he remembered eating coffee cake and sipping weak tea as a young boy. She handed him a bowl of butterscotch candies and he prayed to God it wasn’t the same one from the last time he had visited.

“Thank you Mrs. Donnelly. Are you alright over here… anything else I can do?”

Her hand waved in dismissal as she scoffed at the idea. “Don’t need to be worrying about me none son. Ya worry about that wasted old fart of a man ya call father, that’s what you can do Tommy boy.”

He shifted uneasily under eyes that were still keen and sharp despite her age. The last thing he needed was a lecture from a neighbor he knew for a fact was not unaware of the nightmare reality of his childhood. Of the violence Paddy was capable of inflicting. He set his own hard fixed glare upon her, stood up tall and flexed his arms. She laughed out loud.

“Don’t be blowin yourself up big on my account Tommy, I already seen you fight.” His brows lifted in surprise that she would have watched the match, and she nodded her head before softening her tone. “I know where the anger comes from lad I still got my memory. But things seems different now, don’t they?”

The last thing Tommy wanted from her was pity and he turned to leave the kitchen before his anger got the best of him. Her voice followed him down the hallway only slightly faster than her steps.

“Yeah judging from all that pent up anger I smell on ya, seems you might learn something from one another. Help one another with putting the past…”

Tommy stopped in the doorway, hands gripping the edge of the screen door so tight he felt the broken, jagged mesh dig into his palms. He fixed a hard glare. 

“Maybe you don’t know as much about the past as you think you do. Or the present.”

She shrugged and gave a tight smile. “Just seems to me that it might be time. Changes and all. All I’m saying.”

Tommy glanced over to where his father still stood upon the steps, a curious look upon his face. He turned back to see her eyes had softened, almost from genuine concern, and it only poked at him further.

“Is there anything else I can help you with today Mrs. Donnelly.”

She sighed and then the sass returned. “No there is not. And what I don’t need is your young ass up here cramping my style - my Bridge ladies are due any moment so get yourself outta here before they see you and question my sanity.”

Tommy couldn’t help another smile as he nodded his head with a good’day ma’am and hustled down the steps. What he didn’t see was the appreciative gaze that followed his young and finely toned ass as it bounced down her steps. Though Paddy did, and lifted a mocking brow when she met his eyes as Tommy came to a stop before his dad and bent over to retrieve his bag. She retreated back inside and Paddy chuckled loudly as the door firmly slammed. He turned to his son.

“Get your beauty sleep did ya?”

The blush crept up Tommy’s cheeks, but he saw by the easy smile and teasing glint that his father was only ribbing him as men tended to do. Made him miss the jovial tone of the barracks and he felt more twisted pangs of regret.

“Yeah, guess I was more tired than I thought. Had a bit of trouble sleeping last night.” The blush deepened as he remembered the stuffed dog he had curled against and could only hope his father had no reason to enter his room. Paddy pointed at the gym bag slung over his good shoulder.

“Well nothing a good training session won’t fix right? Ya’ll be good and tired tonight. Trying Boyd’s again?”

Tommy nodded. “Figured I would stop by, see what’s up yeah. Where you been Pop?”

“Meeting. Got that six month mark coming up. Kinda hoping that you will come Tommy.”

Tommy turned his back with a heavy sigh. It wasn’t so much not wanting to go with his dad, as just the whole idea of sitting with a bunch of people he assumed were feeling sorry for themselves. Listing excuses for why they had treated their own loved ones like shit in favor of the taste of a drink.

“That’s okay son… that’s okay. We don’t gotta talk about it right now. Go on and get to your training, I’ll see you back here for dinner?”

Tommy nodded and began his walk towards the T train. “Yeah sure Pop, thanks.”

He had just crossed to the other side of the street, his gaze automatically lifting to rest on Kylas’ former front steps when his father voice reached him.

“Just think about it okay Tommy? Okay son?”

Tommy lifted a hand over his shoulder and gave a little wave, and then hurried on past the familiar brown bungalow with barely a glance. The past needed to just stay away from him for just one damn day. That’s all he asked; just a day of no ghosts to haunt his steps.

~

The sweat covered his back and plastered the fringe of hair to his forehead and after fifteen minutes on the bag Tommy began to feel his old self. Just enough emotion churned inside him to keep his fists pounding without mercy. Feeling his body loosen up and get into the old rhythm brought the rush of adrenaline like nothing else. Finally his brain ceased its circular thoughts and only repeated the pattern: jab, hook, uppercut, jab jab, kick. Colt Boyd had welcomed him back to his club like a long lost brother and watched his progress with an eagle eye; knowing the injury to his shoulder. Now he had him in the ring opposite some young upstart that was giving Tommy everything. The disdain written on every line of his face that Boyd should stick him with an inexperienced fighter replacing his usual menacing growl. He was glad Mad Dog wasn’t around to witness him being treated with kid gloves. The young man wasn’t too awful, he had a strong, fast jab with more power than he looked behind it. Though he was good at keeping moving, his gangly legs often tripped him up. He should opt for less intricate footwork Tommy thought. Raking his narrowed gaze down their spindly length and for one brief moment Tommy slid a rolling gaze towards Boyd leaning on the ropes, and that’s when the lights suddenly dimmed and he staggered backwards to fall into the ropes.

“There ya go Danny-Boy, nice hook!” 

His focus slowly returning, Tommy glared first at Boyd and then at Danny before he lunged across the ring to pull the boy to the mat in one swift rush of raw power. Danny struggled beneath the powerful pressure of Tommy’s knees holding him tight, but catching the look on Tommy’s face he abandoned all effort, choosing to shield his face as the gloves raised above. Beads of sweat fell upon him and he could hear Tommy’s breath in rapid gulps, but it was his feral eyes that caused real fear to crawl up his spine for the first time in the ring. The two blows came hard and fast like nothing he’d ever felt before. A third one he barely managed to block, but the tremors ran the length of his arm like he’d touched a thousand volts of electricity. He could hear Boyd yelling Tommy’s name from the ropes; the corner of his eye catching the man begin to climb into the ring while he braced for another blow. A blow that never came. Suddenly Tommy pulled back and rested on his knees, his breathing ragged and the fierce madness slowly sliding from his face. Danny had never seen such a quick change from good-natured smack talk, to rage, and back to calm again. Despite the heat and sweat covering his body, he felt a cold shiver. Cautiously he backed away from Tommy, shaking his foolish head for ever daring to get in the ring with a man everyone knew to have a short fuse. And Danny knew more than anyone present the deadly potential that coiled inside the man.

Tommy still sat upon his heels looking almost as taken aback as the young man. He’d thought the demons at bay this time, but clearly there was a madness within him that would not be so easily stilled. His hands were lifted in apology and he forced himself to meet the kids eyes; hating the fear he saw there.

“Sorry Danny… was a good hit man. Good hit.”

Danny mumbled something under his breath and quickly scrambled to the edge of the ring, ducking under the ropes without looking back. His lack of shaking hands not lost on Tommy who recalled with some degree of shame how he often left the ring in the same brusque and dismissive manner. Boyd came to his side, knelt down and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Jesus Tommy, what the fuck, he’s basically a kid. You can’t bring that same old pissing anger…”

Tommy nodded his head and held a hand up, “I know, I know.. it won’t happen again. I did stop ya know.”

“Yeah, at three Tommy. One of your punches is enough on a boy his size and lack of fight experience.”

Tommy fixed a defiant eye, “Well maybe he shouldn’t be fighting then.”

Boyd stood up, his own look clearly showing Tommy had two options here: fight within the rules and respect of the other fighters, or don’t fight at all. These were simple training sessions after all; no one was fixing for a match any time soon. Tommy sighed and pushed himself to his feet, nodding his understanding. Boyd nodded in return and then pushed him towards the ropes.

“I think that’s enough for today Tommy. A good start. Go home and stretch out that shoulder; use some ice. Don’t think I didn’t see you pulling those punches and protecting your left side.”

Tommy stood quietly, the truth revealed in his silence.

“Don’t worry about it now. Tomorrow we’ll do some specific drills and see how it’s doing. Got a good physical therapist on call, we’ll get ya sorted out fine Tommy.”

Tommy waved and headed off to the showers. Mixed feelings swirling about his gut and something that felt like defeat weighing upon his shoulders. He passed Danny in the change room and the young man stared hard at him for a few seconds, and Tommy was sure he recognized that old look often cast in his youth; the one that mixed pity and judgement. Neither he much cared for, but he still felt bad enough that he took a step towards him. Danny was having none of it though and brushed abruptly passed him without a word. Tommy grabbed a towel from the shelf and headed towards the showers, desperate to wash this shitty day off. This was why you never sleep in. Spend the whole day playing catch up. There was nothing more that Tommy hated than chasing his own tail. 

Tension finally began to ease as he let the hot stream pulse over his tired muscles, once again ignoring the hard dick that jutted up to further taunt him and pushing images of Tonya’s curved ass to the back of his mind. Though he was almost desperate to fuck her again, he knew it was this rage still welling up within him that was the root cause. His father’s words came back to him. About taking a moral inventory of himself. Close and fearless, were the words that stuck. He had no idea how to do that, but considering how he had almost pummeled some poor innocent kid in the ring for a punch that was his own damn fault. And that he stood naked, wet and hard debating whether he should just tug one off, or go fuck a girl he knew he was only using to ease his lust. Worse of all, knowing that source off his emotional upheaval today was likely the festering guilt concerning his father’s six month sobriety that he was being too chicken shit to even attend, when he was the cause ….. yeah a close moral inventory seemed about right. 

For the first time he could remember, he actually looked forward to getting home to have dinner with his father. He walked out of the gym with a decision made and feeling a weight had lifted from his shoulders. Catching the eye of a pretty girl waiting outside Boyd’s office, he smiled wide; oozing every drop of charm he could muster. Her eyes widened in surprise, before she quickly turned away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. _Fuck she was pretty as hell._ If his luck was turning, and oh god please let it be; this would be the physical therapist. 

Tommy winked when she turned back a coy glance; another decision made. No way in hell he was sleeping in tomorrow.


	7. Take What You Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy finds his routine and takes a step forward with Paddy.... and a blast from the past knocks him for a loop.

The rich aroma of coffee drifting up the stairs into his cramped room woke Tommy even before the buzz of the alarm. When his eyes peeled open, a slow glance told him this time he would see the dawn break. Flipping over to his side, his eyes once again sought the green glow of numbers from across the room. Briefly wondering why he still kept the clock on Brendan’s side. Slowly his eyes wandered over the still made bed and remnants of his brother’s own childhood. A mirror of his own in some ways, and so different in others. An unfamiliar pang gripped his chest and for the first time in years, Tommy actually missed his brother with an acute ache. Anger had tossed those feelings to the curb when he first left all those years ago. Bitterness and resentment the newly grown branches of his family tree. Now as he hugged DD to his chest and viewed the trophies collecting dust, he knew those branches had been torn limb by limb. What remained was still a freshly torn gash; just a hint of new growth but still the bright white flesh of living roots remained deep within the grain.

His thoughts drifted back to dinner with his father the previous evening. It was probably the longest stretch of time his father had ever given him, and Tommy both reveled and rebelled over the long hours of discussion.

_It’s too late. I don’t need you now._

The words he had spat that night echoed in his head. Now proven false as he slowly came to terms with how much he still needed a father. Even one flawed as he had got. He’d been holding onto a lie as tightly as he hugged this damn stuffed dog to his chest; but the truth was – not everything had happened. Release had not happened. Forgiveness had not happened. His own future still hung in the balance. Everything follows. What he slowly learned last night under the gravelly guided tones of a man who had already been through hell and come out the other side, was that even if you change everything about you: where you live, where you go, your name, and even beat the holy hell out of a few willing brutes — the pain follows. Its ripples rising and spreading over everything new like a sweeping tidal wave that was only holding back until you settled in once more. No matter how strict your routine or the size of the cage holding you – an army base, a fight ring, a prison cell, your own mind… the pain won’t stay locked down. It wants to rise. Again and again. So many times that all you care about is drowning the fuck out of it.

In the early morning light, that was Tommy’s flash of insight into his father. Gripping the edge of the bed, the dog’s fur soft in the centre of his sweaty palm as suddenly he is awash in a hundred images of his father with raised bottles and raised fists. The anger always so close to the surface and suddenly he gets it. Saw himself in it. And he doesn’t want to become it. But he also doesn’t know how to stop it. It was the scariest moment of truth he’d ever faced. Turning that same harsh, critical eye he so easily cast on another – towards himself. The courage it took for his father to do the same. _Damn Pop, you really did have some balls._ His father’s final words before saying goodnight coming back, while he tried to swallow around the hard lump in his throat. 

“The journey towards forgiveness doesn’t stop at others son, it continues inward. Forgiving yourself will be the hardest fight of all Tommy. Ya Copy?”

_Yeah Pop. Copy._

~

The activity was humming inside Colt’s gym. Tommy and Danny both in the ring together again since Boyd thought it wise they put the previous day behind them as soon as possible. The boy was distracted the first few minutes of their sparring. His head constantly turning about to look inside the window to Boyd’s office where Tommy could see the back of a woman’s head. His eyes caught the long, brunette waves and wondered briefly if it was the woman from the previous day. Glancing back at his distracted partner, Tommy opted to goad the boy further.

“That your chick in there Danny boy? Filling out permission slip for ya to keep fighting?”

Danny’s eyes narrowed and Tommy saw a fierce possessive glint that betrayed his familiarity with the unknown woman. 

“I don’t need no woman to tell me I can fight. I can decide to fight on my own.” 

Tommy smirked and held his fists up.

“Yeah, than come on man, let’s fuckin do it then, tough guy.”

Several moves were executed and tempers were flaring between the two again. Tommy feeling back in the old groove this morning and drawing the younger fighter into various traps and hold until he had a frustrated Danny backed against the ropes. His head once more turning towards the office.

“Get the damn girl outta your head kid.”

A quick hook from Tommy’s right caught his nose and blood immediately spurted. With a smirk Tommy skipped several paces backwards, hands raised in mocking gesture to come at me bro. Danny took a moment to wipe the blood from his nose with a towel thrown by a trainer ringside. His face registering a what the fuck gaze even if his mouth refused to utter it. Tommy pushed the needle the further, dancing lightly around him.

“Listen kid, you wanted to climb in this ring, you take the tuning that comes with it.”

The boy stood still, blood dripping from his nose but the defiant look in his eye met his own, and Tommy recognized that look of silent determination and self-torture. Could feel the rage and hatred coiling inside his young, toned body sending off a heat that would one day burn anyone within striking distance. His taped hands were clenched at his sides. Sweat dripped from every pore onto the mat. Tommy could see that he was exhausted… and he would keep going. Tommy saw himself. Or the self he used to be. He took a step towards the young man and saw no fear behind his gaze.

“Hey champ, what say winner gets the chick. She must be something for you to let your face take a beating, hey sport?”

Danny lunged forward intent on punching right throw the self satisfied smirk on Tommy’s face. He landed several soft blows that his now half chuckling opponent easily dodged. Frustrated he lunged and grabbed Tommy about the waist, trying to throw him to the mat. Tommy swung with a fast upper cut to his jaw and sent him reeling back. 

“Oh now it’s on kid. Good, good – come on keep it coming like that.”

Danny wiped more blood for his chin and advanced once more. Tommy gaining more respect by the minute. All of a sudden the woman he’d seen the other day exited the office and quickly advanced towards the ring. Without hesitation she climbed between the ropes; placing herself between them. One hand held up towards Danny, to motion him back to the opposite corner. The other she raised and marching towards Tommy, beat it upon his chest to push him back against the other side of the ring. Her eyes were on fire and lips compressed tight, and as shocked as he was, Tommy could not ignore the beauty her anger could not conceal. He couldn’t help the immediate arousal he felt at her daring to confront him. 

“Stop it, both of you, that’s enough.”

Tommy’s lip curled, fuck she was hotter than the sun and even more so with that temper coursing through her veins. “He’s a big boy, knows what happens in the ring. Why don’t you go back to your paper filing and shit.”

The boy stepped forward, gently placing a hand on her shoulder and Tommy noting the sudden softness in his eyes wondered who they were to each other. The boy suddenly becoming more competition than just inside the ring. “Listen sis, it’s okay… I got this. Go on now.”

Tommy chuckled and sneered. “Oh yeah, ya got yer sister to come fight yer battles for you now, that right?”

She turned on him, a finger poking the hard muscles of his bare chest. He gazed down on her heaving chest with a smirking leer, flexing the chiseled chest muscles beneath her dainty finger. Her brow slightly raised, but it barely gave her pause. 

“Shut yer damn mouth. You don’t know nothing about him. Nothing at all Tommy Riordan, or Conlon or whatever the hell name you are using this time.” She stepped into his space, eyes snapping fire and her face inches from his own. ” If we were back on the block I’d pin you down and make you lick this dirty mat …. just for old times’ sake.”

His first lust fueled thought was Christ, I’d love to see her try, but something in her gaze caught his attention. Something familiar in her tone. Tommy’s brow furrowed and he looked closer at the green eyes that cracked with anger, but also something else swirling in the depths. His eyes traced the outline of the full pink lips and suddenly he was assaulted by the scent of cherry lip gloss. Licking his lips, he could taste the sticky sweetness and a memory came flooding back of tanned, slim legs straddling him; long, auburn hair falling in waves teasing his face – and he knew without a doubt her lips would be soft as silk. An entire flood of emotions washed over him, only slight more intense than the stirring in his track pants. He exhaled a breath of air.

“Kyla? Fuck me.”

She slapped him aside his sweaty cheek and tossed a saucy wink.

“Sorry love, never got that far. You bailed on me and ran away.”

As she dragged her brother by the arm from the ring, she tossed a parting remark angrily over her shoulder.

“I’ll be damned if I let you do the same to my brother.”

Tommy stood rooted in the ring, confused as hell and sporting a steel pole in his pants like he was fourteen years old again. How many times had he lay in a lonely bed, then and now, hands tugging and breath rasping while her face and body danced behind closed eyes? Damn. Kyla. He had enough ghosts to confront since he returned home. The last thing he needed to deal with was the girl who was synonymous with “what if?” 

Brendan had caught his happily ever after. Tommy’s had got away.

Except she was right. He had done the leaving.

~

The chair legs screeched across the tiled floor as Tommy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Steve, who is an Alcoholic, paused briefly in his speech, eyes looking up from his wrinkled piece of paper. A flush of red infused Tommy’s cheeks and he briefly nodded his head in a show of contrition for the interruption. Stuttering slightly, Steve returned to his story of sobriety as Tommy struggled to contain the war of emotions within. His damn eyes were threatening to leak again and if he thought it wouldn’t be deemed damn inappropriate to tent his trousers in the middle of an AA meeting, he would have conjured up images of Tonya to cease the threatening flood. No sooner did he think of his one off, than the image of Kyla, face flushed in anger rose before him. Those green eyes bright and boring into his own and he could see a dozen endless summers still reflecting back. His hand rubbed his chest where she had slapped him, as though it still retained the heat of her palm. _Fuck._ Now he shifted uncomfortably for another reason. A long, hot shower was definitely in his near future. 

He was honestly trying to pay attention to the various speakers. Even felt a tinge of compassion every now and then. Yet he couldn’t seem to soften the lines of his face towards any of them. Did these people really deserve forgiveness? After all the hurt and havoc they had inflicted on the ones who loved them most. He glanced up as Steve’s voice warbled with emotion, noticing that the man didn’t even attempt to stem the flood of tears from his eyes as he spoke of how he had pushed his family away while in the dark of his addiction. Tommy felt the burning pain within his eyes and he bit hard on his cheek – any other kind of pain than this. He didn’t want to feel sorry for these people. The last thing he wanted to hear was another alcoholic’s excuse for the damage done. No sooner did this thought run across his already panicked mind, then he saw his father’s slow shuffle to the podium and a cold sweat broke out over his entire body. He kept his eyes firmly focused on the dirty, grout of the floor tiles. Bracing himself to hear the story of his tortured childhood laid bare before this group of strangers. His heart hammered at the idea of his own soul being bared in this room of lost people. Until he remembered he was one of the lost too – maybe in a different way; but lost no less. Was he going to keep on drowning these long buried emotions; or would he find the courage to haul them up to the surface. Rip the door wide; just as he had that tank door and saved those men. Could he not do as much to save himself? 

Lifting his eyes finally to his father’s face, he was surprised to find him so calm. Poised. He supposed he’d been there enough times it probably felt natural by this point. Relief flooded over him that his father was not diving into his past sins, but those of a more recent nature. Until he remembered he was the cause of Paddy’s relapse, and once again his eyes flickered about the room, landing anywhere but his father’s face. His deep, graveled voice was impossible to hide from though. His own name suddenly drifted through the fog he had tried to wrap around his mind.

“My son is here tonight.” Paddy pointed a finger in Tommy’s direction as he attempted to slide a little further down the plastic chair, “that’s him right there, handsome devil.” Paddy gave his first nervous chuckle before regrouping. 

“He probably blames himself for that hotel relapse six months ago, and …well, the things you said did cut son, they did. But they were also the truth Tommy. Another truth, one we all know right .. is that an alcoholic doesn’t need anyone to “make” them relapse and that’s because son, we’re always looking for an excuse to drink again. And I did that. Used all your anger and resentment and rejection as an excuse to drink. That’s on me Tommy. You have every right to those feelings, though…” Paddy’s voice began to break for the first time, but he held the pause until he had his son’s eyes. “I do hope we can keep working on resolving that Tommy. But this sickness inside me son, it’s not your fault. It’s never been your fault.”

Paddy’s gaze held his son’s for just a moment longer, before he looked down and then took a deep breath as though he would continue speaking; then changed his mind. Tommy’s gaze was hard and his mouth was compressed in a tight line; but he didn’t look away. Finally Paddy held the blue chip high in the air and mumbling a “take what you need and leave the rest” stepped away from the podium. 

As Paddy was the final speaker, the group lingered now to enjoy refreshments. His father came directly towards Tommy, the blue chip held tight between his thumb and forefinger and Tommy couldn’t help but be moved by the pride on his father’s face. Those angry words now feeling thick in his throat; the lie stuck and he wished now that he could take them back. But there was only forward. He noticed Paddy’s arms were lifting up and Tommy moved towards him to allow the embrace. Briefly, because – steps. 

“Cup of coffee Tommy?”

“Nah, I’m good Pop, that’s okay, but you go ahead.”

Paddy nodded and headed towards the refreshment table, stopping to speak with his sponsor along the way. Tommy shook his head at the idea of his old man being matched with a female sponsor; but Kim seemed able to hold her own. His eyes shifted around the room and noticed several hesitant smiles directed his way. Politely he smiled, while inside his head screamed Fuck no, I need to get out of here. He waited an appropriate five minutes of small talk before mumbling about it being hot and going to get some air; his strides taking him quickly out the front doors.

While he was leaning against the cool brick of the building attempting to gather his scattered thoughts and battered emotions, the man who ran the meetings came outside for a smoke. His keen gaze grazing over Tommy through a smoky haze. Tommy straightened up and his hands reflexively balled into fists. The teenager confronted by authority scowl sliding into place. The man laughed out loud, cursed, than spat into the dirt.

“Yeah, old Paddy said you was a tough nut to crack. At ease soldier.”

The familiar bark had Tommy coming straight off the wall in half a second before he realize he had even moved. He stared at the man with new found curiosity.

“Marine right? Yeah, me too boy. So oohrah for us right? Here we are, just another fuckin battlefield ain’t it? Staff Sergeant Finn McCool, retired.”

Tommy remained at ease, his gaze focused ahead, but the nodded response and yes sir came automatically as though he never left. He stood quiet, waiting to be spoken to, or directly questioned.

“My wife, long sufferin’ angel that she is to put up with both the Marine Corps life and my asshole addiction, she runs the Al-Anon group that meets on Thursdays. Ya might want to check it out son.” He stepped closer to Tommy, hands folded behind his back and feet spread. “That is if you’re committed to this tour for real. For your dad too.”

Tommy’s gaze rested over the man’s shoulder while he chewed the inside of his cheek furiously. Wishing he had a toothpick to worry, but knowing he’d have spat it out immediately anyway. This was not the type of man who tolerated the wounded boy giving attitude routine. 

“I asked you a question son!”

“Sir, yes sir… I will definitely check that out.” 

The man patted him on the shoulder before turning away, calling over his shoulder. “Glad to hear it. Her name’s Grace, and don’t be giving her none of that lip I hear about. Word of advice, don’t eat the brownies, but her coffee cake’s not half bad.”

Finn McCool gave a wave over his shoulder as he called a night Paddy towards his father exiting the building. Paddy called his own farewell, nodding towards where the old Chevy was parked across the lot. His hand resting on Tommy’s shoulder while they walked, whether for support for the limp more pronounced these days, or in affection Tommy wasn’t sure. He was simply glad for the silence. He’d digested enough words for one evening. And now had committed himself to more, for it was a certainty Finn McCool would follow up with his wife regarding his attendance at her meetings. He sighed as he leaned against the car door waiting for his father to unlock the old beast. His head slowly bending to rest upon the cool metal as he mentally kicked himself for folding under an authority he no longer need submit. Paddy’s hand slapping the roof of the car brought his head up with a start.

“Hey Tommy. I figures we both served our sentences these past six months, whaddaya say we do the next six together?”

He tossed the blue chip over the hood of the car and Tommy’s ever keen reflexes caught it cleanly in his right hand. For the first time that evening he gave his father a genuine smile. 

“Yeah Pop, that sounds good. Real good.”

Tommy’s fingers rubbed the edge of the coin before stuffing into his jeans pocket and then stuffing his own body into the car. Mercifully his father didn’t ask any questions on the drive home, for once a rather comfortable silence between them as they listened to the latest audio book over the car stereo. Perhaps exhausted from his own emotional ordeal that evening, Paddy only said a simple, quiet thanks son before going straight to bed. Tommy settled into the same worn sofa of his childhood and absently flicked through the limited channels, his mind never settling on a single program. All the activity of the day circling about his brain, but he noticed it was frequently stopping on a pair of angry green eyes. He unfold himself from the deep creases of the couch and wandered out to the front porch; automatically glancing down the street towards her old house. 

All was dark and quiet on the street, save for the odd too loud television heard or a barking dog. The sounds of the city once more a faded background symphony his mind easily shuts out. No movement could be detected within her old house and he shook his head dismissing the chances that she would still live there. Her words about his leaving so abruptly came back and Tommy unable, or unwilling to face the defeat of another abandoned post shuffled back inside, falling into the deep cushions once again. Blankly staring at the old western until his thoughts slowly wound down and his eyes drifted closed. One hand stuffed into his pocket clutching the blue chip tight.


	8. Leave the Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We last saw Tommy dealing with haunting memories and the return of a face from his past. Blindsided laying upon the couch in his father’s living room and staring at the flickering images on the TV screen; watching anything that will silence the voices in his head. 
> 
> Warnings: mild smut/masturbation, angst

Muted sounds of a commercial jingle roused Tommy slowly to waking. Somewhere in the back of his sleepy brain the tune pulled from memory and crossing the dream barrier. Eyes slowly peeling open, with one arm stretched across his brow to block the harsh light that filtered through the window. He squinted at the shadow that loomed over him, blocking the source of the jingle now hummed in his head, until the hunched over bulk of his father slowly came into focus. His hand stretched forth holding something that curled a wispy line rising to the ceiling.

“This okay or do you still insist on getting your own?” 

Rubbing his eyes and stretching with a groan, Tommy eyed the coffee cup; a sarcastic retort ready to roll off his tongue. Until the various aches and pains from his night spent in twisted slumber on the old, lumpy couch loudly voiced complaints within what seemed every cell in his body. He winced sharply, while pain twisted his features and Paddy chuckled deep above him. Opting to hold his tongue, Tommy slid the best morning side eye that he could manage and fell back into the cushions. A sharp thud to his right and he assumed Paddy had left the steaming mug on the table, before shuffling away with his own retort tossed over a shoulder.

“Not a good habit to start son. Why do you think your old man walks like he does? I’ll take pity on ya this once.”

His deep chuckle slowly fading into the kitchen area. Or Tommy assumed since he could barely turn his head in any direction. He opted to swallow the retort about exactly why Paddy Conlon’s drunk ass had spent so many nights on this bed of torture with a sip of bitter brew. If he could manage to raise his aching limbs. His eyes flickered over the images on the screen, briefly considering a lazy day of channel surfing, eating nothing healthy, and followed by intermittent napping. Just as he barely managed that first sip, his shoulder protesting every movement, his father’s voice echoed back from the kitchen.

“Isn’t nothing a good hard run and a hot shower won’t cure son.”

Casting another critical glance in his father’s general direction while the weight of biting his tongue threatened to burst a few brain cells … _just one smartass remark, what’s the harm?_ He felt the shape of the chip through his jeans and knew full well the answer to that question. _Take what you need…_

Tommy flicked the TV off with a muttered curse and tossed the remote onto the table. _And leave the rest._

Stifling the groans as his body slowly unfolded from the couch, he grabbed the hot mug and headed slowly up the stairs to change into his running gear. His father’s periodic grunts of laughter punctuating each heavy step.

~

One advantage about pain wreaking havoc on the body, is that it tended to shut down the thought process temporarily. As soon as he had passed Kyla’s old house the thoughts had begun trying to force their way into his head. As he settled into the run, Tommy forced his mind towards an inventory of the various aches and pains; adjusting his stride, speed and arm motion accordingly. His jaw clenched tight while he pushed memory and any rutting urges to the back of his mind, opting for the right, left, right rhythm of old habits to take control of his mind. As his feet pounded the pavement and ate up the city miles, slowly both mind and body began to loosen and settle into a familiar groove. The pounding beats from his earphones blocking out the inner city noise that surrounded and providing exactly the energetic background of adrenaline he needed. Each time a new pain or train of thought threatened to break his stride, he set a new goal. Just get over the bridge. Just make it to that street lamp. A little further to that girl in the form hugging yoga pants walking her dog. _Fuck, focus Conlon._

Each goal met and still Tommy kept running. Until there was just a comfortable numbness in both limb and brain. It did occur to him that perhaps thinking opting for running as the answer, the cure to his pain, might not be the best strategy given the past. Except this time – he was running towards something. He had goals dammit. Eyes focused on just one more target to be reached before he dropped to the ground to bang out a series of push-ups and sit ups; then starting the long run back home. He resisted the urge to alter course by the gym to see if the boy was training today. Though he then failed to block the vision of green eyes swimming in the recess of mind for the remainder of his run. Instead, true to the stubborn nature of Tommy Conlon, it only made him run harder.

~

As he turned onto his street, sweat dripping from his forehead and causing his dampened clothes to mold tightly to his hard shape, he saw Mrs. Donnelly struggling to haul her garbage can to the curb. 

“Here, Mrs. Donnelly, let me do that for you.”

“Oh Tommy it is going to be nice having you back home.” She patted his muscled back and ran her hands down the muscles of his arms. “Be nice having a strong back and capable man around for a change.” 

Tommy didn’t miss the glance she cast back towards his house, and presumably his father inside, though he did miss the appreciative glance on his toned ass as he dragged the bin down the driveway. Mrs. Donnelly may be old, but she sure wasn’t dead in the way she admired that perspiring form as he loped back towards her. She was immensely grateful the Conlon boys took after their mother in both disposition and form.

“Come in and get a drink of cold water and a bite to eat Tommy. I got muffins warm from the oven. Trying some new health one, swear to god its like eating grass but the doctor says it helps keep things regular you know.”

Tommy cringed slightly, but parched as he was after the intense workout was not inclined to refuse immediate refueling and followed her into the house. While he drank the cool water and choked down a muffin of suspicious looking ingredients, but that actually wasn’t too bad tasting – just dry as the desert, he listened to the various news regarding the neighbourhood. He couldn’t help but wonder about the days his own home was likely thoroughly discussed around kitchen tables and suddenly felt a pressing need to get out of one of the few places he had felt comfortable in as a young boy. He was very much aware of her probing gaze as he hurriedly made an excuse to depart. A desperate need for a shower not exactly being a lie. As he exited the front door, his eyes automatically sought out Kyla’s old home and suddenly he stopped short in the door-frame, hardly daring to believe she was standing on the front step as though no time had passed. His reaction not missed by the beady old eyes behind him.

“Ahh, there’s Kyla now. You remember her don’t you Tommy? My but you two were inseparable once upon a time.” Her gaze raked over his still form and the intensity of his gaze upon the woman. “Quite lovely thing she’s become and always so helpful to me too. You two were always so much alike.” Her glance flicked back between the two with gazes locked upon the other. “Why don’t you go say hello, I’m sure she will remember you.” 

She gave a little nudge upon his back and broke the spell that held him in place. Just as he turned to reply, Kyla’s voice carried down the street; yelling over her shoulder for someone to hurry up and Tommy’s eyes were keenly fixed on the front door. With some relief he saw it was Danny who burst forward, tripping over his long legs and shoe laces a moment later. He struggled for breath, feeling winded –whether still from his run or this surprise punch to the gut, he isn’t sure. Another nudge and he finds himself walking to the end of the drive, standing at the edge of the lawn unsure of whether to wave or holler. Standing like an idiot with his mouth hanging open doesn’t seem the right call but he’s too dumbstruck to even care. It is Danny who spots him and stopped short a few feet from the car. Kyla glanced over her shoulder and he swore he could see those green eyes sparkle all the way down the damn street. She leaned upon the car door, a slight frown on her face. He thought what could pass as a brief nod in his direction before she motions for her brother to get in the car. The two men stood silently glaring for a few seconds before the brother obeys. With a sickening feeling Tommy noticed she doesn’t wave when the car passes; though he’s sure he can spy a raised middle digit from the passenger side. _Great._

The slump in his shoulders and downcast eyes thankfully go unremarked as he stalked back up the lawn and past Mrs. Donnelly. He doesn’t need to see the look of worry, or curiosity on her face.

“Thank you Mrs. Donnelly, better get that shower now.” 

“Anytime Tommy. Anytime you know just where to find me son.”

The obvious care in her voice caused a pain in his heart, and he shrugged off her gentle touch. Tried to push the nagging thought aside and took the stairs two at a time without a glance back. No amount of anger or exhaustion could push this one away: it was too late – he didn’t need a mother anymore. Not that he’d ever really let go of the first one. 

~

His shower was long and hot and just what he needed to wash the miserable day away. Allowing the steam to gather so thick he can barely see his own hands as he stepped under the hot spray and let the pressure ease all the aching muscles. Soapy hands easing the rub down though it’s much nicer when someone else does it. One of the great perks about training is the after workout hot soaks and massages. His mind can’t help but wander to soapy hands running over his aching muscles. Soft, but firm as they glide down the flat hard lines of his stomach and slide round to reach his glutes. Fingers pressing deep and massaging back around along the IT band. Grazing his cock as it thickens and lengthens. His forehead pressed against the cool tile while the water runs hot down his back, and his hands grip his own fullness. The memories flood back as he palms himself with slow even tugs. Images switching back and forth from her ass looking trim and tight in those perfectly molded skinny jeans when she had strut angrily from the ring. Flashes from the past of them young, splayed upon the grassy knoll behind her house with her lips teasing his while long tresses fan his cheeks. The last time they had been together and she had straddled around his thighs and leaned so close the green eyes sparked and danced before him and anticipation had been a scent on the summer wind. The memory so real he let go with an intensity that has him gripping the shower wall for support. Entire body shuddering, muscles tensed with the force of the climax. Always this way with her. Always in his head and never known. Kyla was like a napalm bomb on his raging libido as a young teen, and apparently as a grown man now as well. Feeling mildly disgusted by his own weakness he exits the shower and still dripping wet donned a clean pair of grey sweats and white tank. Forcefully redirecting his thoughts to the fried chicken he knows Paddy has in the fridge and the pie on the counter.

Aching muscles aside; TV viewing and napping suddenly seems exactly what he needs today. He caught a glimpse of his father outside washing the old Chevy and trading insults with Mrs. Donnelly. Absently wonders about how his father manages to stay busy enough and if that quiets the voices in his head. The phrase from the meeting echoed in his head: _one day at a time right Pop?_ Exhausted physically and drained mentally he can’t handle anything more than the basics of life today. He groaned deep as his ass sunk into the couch cushions once again and reached for the remote. Food. Nap. Mindless staring. 

The rest would still be there tomorrow. He didn’t even try to count how many glances out the window to the house up the street he did before the drone of the television and the weight of food in his gut pulled him into a deep sleep.

Paddy stood over him considering whether to wake him for dinner. Judging by the plate on the coffee table, he’d probably be fine until breakfast. Mrs. Donnelly had mentioned seeing his childhood friend from up the street. That Kayla girl that had always hung off his every word and look. With dismay he recalled how she also high tailed and run back home like a startled deer as soon as he had come round. He had known she still lived in the house down the street, but had not though much of it since she still kept her distance from him. Yep, not much ever changed in the neighborhood. For his son’s sake, he hoped the bonds of friendship would prove to be one of those unchanging things. 

~~

Driving her brother to the gym, Kyla was trying to concentrate on the road but the feel of those rippling muscles under her palms was making it hard to concentrate on the heavy traffic. It was so brief - she’d barely touched him that day at the gym, but then Tommy Conlon had always had this effect on her. First as a young girl and now with that body sculpted of iron, even more so. She had a sudden vision of licking the tattoo lines etched upon his ripped torso and almost back ended the car in front. No one had ever stirred her up inside…. and she meant DEEP inside, like Tommy Conlon. The blind dumbass that he was; still. Knowing his past as she did, and knowing all that he had endured since leaving, thanks to vulture like tv reporters, only made the ache grow deeper. With an iron grip on the steering wheel and intent gaze on the road, she swore to keep a firm grip on her senses this time around. Especially if he was going to be training her little brother. 

Danny watched her from the passenger seat. The flicker of emotions that crossed her face. The erratic driving. Mostly the way her knuckles turned white upon the steering wheel and her head gave a little shake no from time to time. She might call it resolve, but he knew if he could read her thoughts; he would say Kyla was only lying to herself. He had his own memories. Of his sister laughing and wrestling with the boy down the street. The sudden silence that would follow. The raised voices that sent her running home, Tommy always watching until she closed the door to their home safely behind her. Mostly he remembered the months of tears when it all came to a crushing halt. He saw how she still looked to the front porch down the street every time they left their childhood home. In particular he felt the rush of heat and energy pulse between the two of them that day at the gym. It only confirmed what he’d even known as young boy watching them sitting close, sometimes hands brushing, on the old, battered den sofa. Nothing was more inevitable than Tommy and Kyla. 

He only hoped that was a good thing. Tommy was one of those types that Left. His sister didn’t need any more bad luck or disappointments, and it was his job now to take care that no one messed with the one person that cared about him in this whole stupid, hate filled world. He’d fight anyone who messed with his Kyla. Even the legend that was Tommy Conlon.


	9. Steps 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: mild PTSD/nightmare description, war, soldier

The sky filled with smoke and fire. The acrid scent of ashes on the wind filling his nasal cavities so thick each breath was more a gag. Throat and eyes burning from both heat and the gas, but still he pushed his way forward. The tell-tale whizz of bullets as he dodged both debris and broken bodies. Still fresh in his mind the fallen man that was more than just a brother in arms, spurring the adrenaline in his veins. He had been running for so long, he could run a bit further when the stakes were so high. _Not another man lost; not today._ Fighting his way through the churning waves while the haunting sound – a screech of sorts - echoed all around him. But it cannot drown out the desperate screams of the men.

_Drown._

_They’re gonna drown. All of them. Come on, move your ass soldier!_

The water is so cold. Arms reaching for something that isn’t there, though his muscles strain with the effort of pulling the tank door free. Beads of sweat lined his forehead and his breath gurgled out in gasps; then held as he once more dove back under the water. The pressure ringing in his ears and muffling the screams inside. Tommy shivered and thrashed upon the couch caught deep in the dregs of the nightmare. Except these are also the sounds that follow his waking moments. The gurgling sounds usher forth images of violent coughing spasms that spew blood all over his clothes. It’s the sound of losing people.

Tommy bolted up from the couch and immediately rolled to the floor, covering his head while attempting a soldier’s crawl beneath the coffee table. The vivid dream still maintaining its fierce clutch upon his mind. A car backfired outside and with grim determination he flipped the coffee table over and ducked behind, one hand reaching for a weapon he no longer carried. The steady cries of the men he saved bleeding into his ears, and the haunting sorrow of the one he couldn’t an unwavering suffering that leeched into his bones. Sweating, gasping, the memory of Manny so fresh, he has to haul deep gulps of air into his lungs, crouched on the living room floor and remembering all over the loss of his friend and brother.

Grief came calling to Tommy most nights …and the guilt soon followed. _Why did he live, when better men died?_ So many times since that day, Tommy felt he was still holding his breath in that freezing cold water. Muscles straining and the numbness quickly taking over and he fears his strength will give out. That he will always move in a sluggish, weighted manner as an invisible clock measures out fate. Slowly the pieces begin to connect that he doesn’t feel this way when training, or in the ring. Moving in a blinding blitz that unleashes all the pain, and if he will only admit: the fear. Nothing can catch you if you just keep moving; so he doesn’t linger around for the fallout, or the glory. If only he could rip out all the trauma just as he ripped off that door. If only he could recall Manny in better moments than those terrible final ones. But this is all his mind will allow him to recall of his friend. So Tommy endures the almost nightly terrors because why should he get off so easy? He didn’t deserve the comfort of a peaceful night. As painful a burden the nightmares were, he feared letting go would mean letting go of Manny – for good. 

Several minutes pass before he slowly rose to ease himself back onto the couch, aching head resting in trembling hands. The urge to hit something another kind of battle. A great way to release the pain inside and bring them back to steady. Leaning back, hands clenching and releasing, his gaze fell on the portrait of his mother and he choked back a sob. Drove his fist into a palm even though the denial joined the other screeches in his head.

_I am not him. I am not him!_

There’s too many ghosts of the past pressing down and Tommy fled the room, swiping his water bottle as he burst through the front door. Drawing huge gulps as he plunked down upon the front steps shaking off the powerful grip of the dream, and his past. Trying to ignore how badly he wished it was a cold beer. Certainly he will never bring alcohol around his father again, but he cannot deny the tinge of resentment that it means he can’t have a drink either. Disgusted at his own thought as he considered that his childhood home experienced a near drowning of its own; in booze and rage. And for the first time he dared wonder: who truly ripped the door off and freed the trapped souls: him, or his father? 

Tommy licked his cracked lips, throat suddenly parched from the panicked breathing, then swallowed the remaining tepid water in several gulps. Tasting the warmth of the liquid and his mind reached way back of its own will and reminded him how soothing a cold Popsicle would feel right now. The last sip imagined with a hint of cherry and his eyes glanced down the street and Tommy nearly choked. Hardly daring to believe it was Kyla sitting on her front steps a cold beer in her hands and her gaze on him. In the glow of the streetlamp that shone a halo about her, he could see the drops falling down the outside of the bottle and landing on her bare thigh. A heavenly vision of lovely to his fucking nightmarish hell, but surprised as he was, his ass remained rooted on the cool step. He held her gaze and hoped the horrors of his evening were not still stamped on his face. Kyla’s brow creased as she took a long sip from the bottle and he couldn’t help but watch the way her lips drew upon the bottle. He ducked his head to conceal the blush of his thoughts and when he glanced up again, she was already walking down the street.

“Tommy fuckin Conlon.”

The swearing was new, but everything else seemed the same. Just better. A lot better. His childhood friend had grown into a woman he could only describe as smoking hot – thought not to her face just in case she still also possessed that wicked right hook. The morning shower flashing behind his lids while he tried to maintain a stoic façade. 

He nodded a greeting. “Kyla fucking Prior… it is still Prior is it?”

She grinned slightly, tossed her long hair. “Hell yeah, is it still Conlon today?”

Tommy chewed his cheek and considered the sarcastic bordering on ill-tempered retort that rolled through his mind. Did he want to start off this way when she was clearly still angry from his bout in the ring with Danny? Instead he fixed her with an angry glare and let that speak for itself. _What did she know about war and death and losing best friends anyway?_ She took another sip, turned away briefly, her voice coming so low he had to lean forward to hear.

“Shit Tommy, I get why you changed it. I know the story and I can’t find any fault…”

“Oh you know do you? Tell me, what exactly do you know Kyla? Eh? What you heard on some gossip news show or read in those glossy little magazines you women love so much? Heard it while getting your nails all painted pretty down at the beauty shop – just a bit of friendly neighborhood gossip right?” 

He shifted on the step and slowly began to rise, his agitation and frustration at the world that thought it knew anything about him dangerously mounting.

“Aww shit Tommy, come on. It’s me… right.” She stepped forward and placed one hand on his arm and for the life of him, Tommy could not quell the over whelming need to lean into that touch. “Tommy, this ain’t my first porch sit, right?”

He stared at the sky, the ground, her house down the street; anywhere but those vivid eyes he knew would see right through him. Strip everything away with a single look, just as her touch had brought the calmness.

“Yeah, well that was a long time ago Kyla. You know, there’s a lot’s happened since then.”

She held out the beer towards him, “Sure it has Tommy. We used to share popsicles, remember? Now we share more grown up shit… and all the shit that comes with it.”

He took the beer, chuckling before he took a swig, “Yep. All that shit.”

His eyes held hers finally as he drank deep, felt the coolness soothe his throat, even though it also left a sickening feeling as soon as it hit his stomach. “So what shit do you have to share Kyla, hhhmm?” 

Tommy sat down with a hard grunt, missing the flash of pain that strained her delicate features. Glancing back up, he held out the bottle while his other hand patted the step beside him. Kyla ignored the bottle and pressed closer to him, her hand reaching to lightly touch his and her bare knees pressed against his own. He saw the tremor in her lower lip and the set to her shoulders and braced himself for a volley of angry words. Most of which he likely deserved.

“You know Tommy, I had a whole speech in my head.”

He chuckled, as he could just imagine what she wanted to say to him if the angry words spat in the ring were any clue. “You did eh? Rehearse it on the walk over did you?”

“Yeah Tommy, I did. Choose just the right words I thought a knuckle headed arse like you probably deserved, and that’s not even considering what ya did to my little brother.”

Tommy swore under his breath and looked away.

“But you know Tommy, that’s just a cover. Right, like the things we say when we can’t say what we really want to say. Ever feel like that Charms?”

Tommy snorted at the use of the childhood nickname she had given him. _Sir Charms_ : due to the Irish leprechaun tattoo on his shoulder, but mostly because he could charm his way out of any situation back then. He was doubtful it would work now. It brought an odd familiarity he was not opposed to. Like slipping into a pair of the old grey track pants he’d left behind. Though he’d grown out of them, they still brought a deep comfort. There was something to be said about the things you just knew. He completely understood what she meant, and dared to press further.

“And what do you really what to say Stringbean? Don’t hold back and spare my feelings now.”

He risked her own nickname, guessing since she was barely 125 pounds soaking wet she was likely sensitive as ever about that sort of thing. If she was, she didn’t react, only slid onto the empty space beside him; leaning her shoulder against his own. It felt good. It felt like his own missing phantom limb had returned. He had heard war veterans talk about such a thing when he had visited the hospitals and had never quite understood until her body connected to his own.

“I missed you Tommy.”

Tommy swallowed thickly, emotions, memory and the hope of finding a soft place to land all mixing in the place he kept locked tight and threatening to burst the dam wide open. A time bomb he doubted he could keep his finger on the release for much longer. He pushed back against her shoulder.

“Yeah, so where do we start then? A lot of time.” He risked a glance, saw nothing but the same deep affection in her eyes that was always there. “I’m not the same Kyla.”

She shook her head. “No, you’re not. But not so different either Tommy.” She entwined her hand within his own, just like they had done so many years ago when the world had seemed so much bigger than they. And now they knew just how small they really were. “We’re not so different either I think. I think we still have a lot in common Tommy.” 

He stared at their clasped hands; hers so much smaller than his own now. The polish chipped at the tips and he winced in regret of his earlier remark, but the old Tommy still had control of his voice. “And what’s that? You think you know about my life, what’s happened. That we can have something to talk about? What Kyla?” 

His voice grew steadily more agitated as he continued, but she quieted him with a gentle squeeze.

“Well I think we can start with talking about something we both know very well.” She paused before meeting his eyes with a meaningful look. His brow raised. “Something that has hurt us both maybe? Like losing best friends.” 

She paused, let the words sink in and prayed that he would see there was no malice intended. Just a simply stated fact. And god how she had missed him in those first months. Like a piece of her gone missing and she’d never be whole again. A side glance revealed the tense workings of his jaw and she smiled slightly to see the old habit, and continued hoping to reduce any pain her words might have caused. 

“I mean, I know I didn’t lose you at all in the same way you lost Manny and I don’t mean to make light of that Tommy… but still, I lost you.”

Her voice grew quiet and small. “You didn’t even say goodbye.”

Tommy finally raised his eyes to search her face, finding it soft and relaxed. His tongue swiped over his teeth, tasted the coppery hint of blood and he willed his jaw to relax. A watery mist gathered in the corners of her eyes and the green shone in the moonlight; and Tommy breathed deeply as the years rolled back. He was bracing for the guilt to overwhelm him once again, but something in how she held his gaze unashamed of her own pain, grew a confidence. The urge to run didn’t come this time. This was a wrong he could right; and it felt so right sitting with her as his heart began to slowly open. 

For the first time since he left these very steps without a backward glance, he felt just maybe - maybe he didn’t have to be alone.


	10. Then and Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No warnings: just a short, sweet porch chat

For several minutes the only sounds were the whir of crickets and distant traffic from the interstate. The intermittent blare of a television somewhere on the block adding to the city noise. Shoulder to shoulder they sat, Kyla leaning into Tommy’s warmth pressed along her side. And waited. Then and now. A little nudge and his gaze finally turned to her, and Tommy fell right back into the green depths; only now a man with his heart on his sleeve. 

“I missed you too Kyla. You know, I thought about you a lot, but when ma got sicker, towards the end, every day just kinda became one blur rolling into the next.” His head lowered and one toe kicked against the step. “And then I was just alone and it seemed the whole world was calling to me and I just… I had to go. Find something. Anything to keep my mind quiet you know?”

Her hand had moved to rest lightly on his arm at the mention of his mother’s death, and he could hear the intake of breath though she remained otherwise quiet. A brush of her hand swiped across a cheek and he grew quiet once again. Her own grief pulling him back through the tunnel of time so that it all came fresh and new. Except this time, there were tears of his own. 

“She was beautiful Tommy. I loved her like my own ma too you know.” She whispered around the lump in her throat. “I didn’t get to say good-bye to her either.”

Her hand slipped into his own; a squeeze that lingered. He clung to that touch. The need so great it swept any shame or guilt aside. This was Kyla – and what could he hide from her? Nothing. Not even the smallest piece of himself could he deny her access. It was raw and terrifying and still he wanted to throw himself all in and let it wreck him completely. _Why couldn’t he ever do anything in half measures?_

That was of course assuming she was the same old Kyla. Because he wasn’t the same old Tommy and it was the only thing that scared the hell out of him.

“Why’d you stay?”

She punched him lightly on the arm, “Oh no bro, you don’t get to ask the questions tonight. YOU did the leaving remember?” She rested her head on his shoulder and looked at him unwavering. “You owe me that much Tommy.”

He licked his lips and briefly turned away, shaking his head. Unease settling in his bones… he could guess what was coming.

“Truth or dare.”

He snorted. “Really? What are we 13?”

She sat up and turned to face him. “Yeah Tommy, we’re 13 again since that’s the only version of you I can recall and are you still gonna be a chicken shit and moan about it or choose?”

Yep, same old Kyla. Definitely. He laughed, though the tension still coursed in his veins. 

“Fine, truth.”

“Why did you really not come home?”

Boom. No hesitation. She was the truly fearless one. Kyla knew by the way he chewed his cheek that he didn’t want to answer, and part of her mind was saying back off.. he’s not ready. But the other part, the lonely, broken crying in her room for months teen wanted her answer. Because she already knew what it was; deep down she had always known. His head rolled loosely about his shoulders; stalling. To his credit he did finally meet her gaze and released a weary sigh.

“Because I didn’t think there was anything to come home to. Right. Ya happy now?”

She bite her bottom lip and he felt like the biggest sack of shit seeing the pain in her eyes. Thought back to his father’s conversation about steps and being stuck. Well it seemed he’d charged straight into the muck of whatever fuckin number _amends to the people you had hurt_. And he didn’t have a fuckin clue about that.

Her arms had folded across her chest – as though she could keep herself from breaking. Eyes misty and her voice barely a whisper.

“Nothing? Or no one?”

“Shit Kyla. I was still a kid gimme a break. What the fuck did I know then?”

“You knew me.” Her eyes had dropped and a toe began kicking the step below.

“Yeah, but it felt like once upon a time in a fuckin fairy tale after I buried my mom…alone, didn’t it? What was I supposed to think? That I’d come home to dear old dad and everything would be fine again. Fuck no.”

Tommy stood up and turned to move up the steps, but a firm grip on his elbow pulled him back.

“Oh no, you don’t get to just walk away, again.”

His arm jerked free and he spun on her, eyes narrowed and lips curled into a snarl. For the first time Kyla rose and stepped away as the anger coiled about him.

“What the fuck do you want from me? What do you want me to say? That I pined away for you? That you were unforgettable. I fuckin felt like I died that day Kyla… I didn’t feel a single fucking thing. For no one. Is that what you want to hear?”

Her lip trembled, but her head nodded slowly and he swore under his breath. Confusion and guilt and a hundred other emotions, not the least of how his thoughts had turned to her of late, and that it was not an entirely new thing. How the hell he was supposed to look at her ashen face right now and admit, yeah I think of you. A lot. And I’m naked and jerking off most of it too. Sometimes I’m so lonely, but I can feel the warmth of our bodies touching like it was yesterday. Today, it was all far away again. Slipping away from him though his fingers outstretched to hold it this time. Her head was still nodding and she reached out and lightly rubbed his arm.

“Yeah Tommy, that’s exactly what I want to hear. Ya wanna know why?”

He shrugged his shoulders, and she had to laugh at the same defiant teen that could be glimpsed in his features.

“Because it’s real. Hurt like fucking hell to hear… but it’s the truth. And that’s what I want from you Charms. If we’re gonna be sharing a porch step again.”

“Jesus Kyla. I don’t know if I can handle porch therapy right now.” He sat down with a groan, hands rubbing his face and over his head. She remained standing this time and he had to look up to meet her gaze. “Pop’s going to AA regular and you know, there’s a lot goin on there Kyla. The past and stuff from not too long ago that’s kinda my fault…”

“Sparta?”

“Yeah that too. Everything’s just… it’s a lot of shit right now. I’m trying to get back to training again, but it’s all… I mean.. I’m a me…” His voice broke and the pain in his eyes damn near brought her to her knees, but she held strong. Kicked his shin lightly.

“Know what else I want. What I really wish for right now?”

His head shook slowly and she couldn’t believe that he had not looked away. Like he knew and trusted she was just going pull the answer out of some magic box. Except she couldn’t.

“A do-over. Remember?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Do 0ver, yeah I remember. You fucking kidding me right now Bean?” 

“If only right?”

“Yeah. But we aren’t 13 Bean. Shit’s not going just fade this time.”

“No, it isn’t.”

They held each other’s gaze for a few moments. The silence slowly melding into an easy comfortable bridging of the years. He could see by the warmth in her eyes that she forgave him; if she had even been truly mad at him at all in the first place. She was all softness now and he grasped the tips of her fingers lightly.

“So what do are we gonna do about that?”

She pressed her lips, thought a few moments. “Why do you think you came home now?”

Oh she was still clever. How she’d brought him right back around almost left him speechless – except he knew the answer. 

“To see if there was anything to come home to.”

She smiled and he knew in his heart it had been worth the pain of getting there. 

“Well then I guess you’re gonna have to stick around to find out this time, aren’t ya?” She winked over a shoulder as she bounced down the steps. “Kinda like a do-ever ya might say.”

Tommy stood and laughed lighter than he had in years. How could he ever have forgotten she was good for the soul? If he was honest, she was just about the only good thing he’d ever had in his life. Just proved how pain could root down so deep, it pushed all the goodness aside. 

She stopped several feet from the steps and turned, her hand held out.

“Walk me home?”

Tommy trotted down the steps, ignored the offered hand and instead put his arms around and pulled her close.

“Always Bean.”

So much had changed. Some things never changed.

Then and Now.

Tommy and Kyla; walking each other home through the darkness that surrounded them.


	11. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy wakes up and is feeling fine. Can Kyla handle this cheeky new him -- especially when he's half naked and covered in sweat?

Despite the late hour to bed and more than a few aches and pains that lingered thanks to the lumpy old couch, Tommy awoke with the rising sun. A few bars of the reggae melody flitting through his head.

_Cause every little thing, is gonna be alright._

His smile was unforced and easy for the first time since coming home. A damn fucking cliché that fit the song, but it was better than waking up feeling like shit and tugging yourself dry just to get a little motivation flowing. His mind drifted back to the previous night and Kyla. Still pondering the one question he asked when they reached her door. _Why wasn’t she here the first time he came home?_

“Looked for me did you?”

Even this morning he cringed at the truth that due to the state he was in, while he had thought of her in passing, he had not looked for her. His mind too involved with training and his family drama. Another stab of guilt when he saw the brightness leave the hopeful green eyes before she dropped her gaze and turned away from him. 

“Another day Tommy. Enough sadness for one day eh?”

But the water pooling in those green depths caught in the street lamps glow was unmistakable. Tommy’s head cocked to the side, jaw tensing and arms folded tightly across his chest. Their first night couldn’t end like this. 

“Kyla? Come on now, I can’t let you go like this, damn I’d be the biggest bastard.” 

His hand reached out towards her, several steps above him and already trying the door handle. The slump of her shoulders igniting a sickening worry in his gut. Kyla glanced over her shoulder, saw the paleness and worry etched upon his face and sighed deeply. Slowly she retraced her steps, a hand wiping a tear away before she lifted her arms over his head and buried her own on his broad shoulder. His arms automatically circled round and his breath was warm and soft on her neck.

“Oh fuck Kyla, what? You’re killin me here ya know?”

One hand moved to lightly touch his cheek. “It’s okay Tommy. It’s fine, just not tonight. I can’t tonight, okay?” Finally meeting his worried gaze and giving a brief flash of smile. “I’ll be okay, I promise. We’ll unpack my shit later.” A nervous laugh before she moved to unfold herself from his tight embrace.

Tommy’s hand squeezed tighter where it rested on her hip. Trying to hold her longer while also fearing his physical response to her closeness. But it felt so right – Kyla in his arms. That he could be here for her during whatever this sudden sadness that gripped her was. She laughed lightly again and before he could change his mind, he wrapped her tight and lifted her off the ground. The laughter that spilled out of her feeling so good in his ears and pushing away the heaviness of the evening. Her body molded so close to his own but it’s another kind of pull he feels deep inside this time. Her nose buried against his neck and he felt the great sigh she released. His own breath held and heart hammering against the warmth of her chest, when she lifted her head and placed a kiss gently by the side of his mouth. The faint “welcome home Tommy” breathed against his own silent lips. He turned his head but only just in time to catch the scent that was uniquely her; teasing him near to madness. And then she was up the steps and gone before he could say more than a good night. 

The sounds of his father downstairs in the kitchen broke through his recall, but the good feelings remained as he quickly dressed and thundered down the attic stairs. His mouth didn’t seem able to stop smiling.

It had been a good night.

As he entered the kitchen, his father placed two cups of coffee on the old table, and the smell of eggs welcomed the hunger gnawing in his belly. Sitting at the scratched and worn table that could speak of a thousand family dinners gone wrong, while he caught up with his father, he finally felt for the first time that he was truly home.

~

_Thump, thump, WACK. Thump. Thump._

_Boom. Ba Dat Boom. Dat._

The beat sounded in his head like a distant drumming rising above the various clangs and bangs of gym equipment. Mercifully drowning out the various muscle fueled grunts of masculine effort that could become tedious even though you knew you did it yourself when training hard.

_Thump, thump WACK. Ba Phump._

In his ears another rhythm flowed, keeping time with each padded hit upon the bag.

_Thump. Thump._

Pause. Droplets of sweat impatiently wiped from a creased brow furrowed deep in concentration. Stance adjusted and back into the pattern once again while the music drove on inside his head. Focused. Each punch a precise release of energy unleashed. Tommy felt the slow easing of tension each time his fist connected with the heavy bag. Though this time there was no anger. No thirst for revenge. No guilt. Just him and the bag and the rap dropping beats in his head. Each drop of sweat a long awaited purging until his tank top clung to his sweat drenched form. Soaked the muscled expanse of his chest and the thick traps were highlighted under the harsh fluorescent glare. Oblivious to the appreciative glances of the few scattered females training at the gym today. A few males found their gazes wandering over to watch him work the bag, whether from attraction or envy of his sculpted form, only they knew. Aside from the odd peek towards the gym doors seeking a particular form he coveted of his own, Tommy’s head remained focused on this target. Locked and loaded. 

The young lad kept himself occupied in the corner. One of the set of eyes that strayed towards Tommy every now and then, although with an uneasy wariness that was clear. The rapid staccato of the jumping rope briefly disturbing Tommy’s own rhythm when the song changed from a loud rap to a steady hip hop. He huffed in frustration, but cast a small smile towards Danny before he continued his workout. A peace signal sent across the room. Only a brief nod was received in reply and the boy never missed a beat of the rope. Crossing it over and back of his body in a complicated pattern. Tommy smiled inwardly – he could hardly blame him could he – and added a few kicks and different punches to his routine. Well, it’s better than a kick to the head. 

_Jab, jab, cross, uppercut, knee drop, jab._

The patterns mixed and repeated and requiring all his focus, he never glanced Danny’s way again. Lost to any distractions as finally felt the tightness ease in his shoulder. As long as he didn’t throw full power yet, it seemed to hold up just fine. Just the smooth, powerful motions of a gifted fighter. Pain. Guilt. Girl, what girl? It was all beaten into submission and this time it felt like a cleansing. So thorough his tank top was soon discarded into a soaked heap upon the floor. One more constriction cast off. Several feminine eyes openly staring now with no attempt to mask their interest. Tommy saw nothing but a vague tint of green that slowly began to fade away; but could not quite be fully banished. His chest heaved with the effort. Tiring quicker than he used to without the inner turmoil fueling his efforts. Briefly missed the old morning ritual of rubbing one out and watching the tensions circle down the drain. Suddenly feeling awkward about such things after the night with Kyla. Shit. He was too old to feel both awkward and horny like some untried virgin of thirteen. Nonsense. A right hook spun the bag sideways. He attacked the feelings of uncertainty. That’s why the Marines suited him so well – you didn’t really have to worry about thinking for yourself. You followed orders and the chain of command. 

_Thump._ Order.

_Wack._ Duty.

Until you acted without hesitation because that could get you killed. Or the man next to you.

_Thump._ Honour. **BAM!**

The force of the punch turned more eyes towards him. Tommy only sought one pair and shifted towards where Danny stood with a slight frown gazing back. Silently shrugging and then pointed a gloved fist towards him with a teasing smirk. Danny paled briefly and then shook his head back and forth before an uneasy smile finally split his face. His posture straightening to full height as if in answer to the challenge Tommy made, then suddenly he dropped his hands at his sides and stood silent.

_Yeah, that’s right boy. Let’s both just pretend I’m not gonna beat your face – again. Or that I’m hoping to get in your sisters pants._

Tommy chucked lightly at his own thoughts and then following the line of Danny’s gaze, glanced over his shoulder. The smile leaving his face in an instant.

Forget the pants.

Those gym shorts just grazing the trim line of her ass and showing off the full length of toned legs were far more tempting. His gaze slowly drifted upward to find the green ones steady on him, raking over his own sweat drenched and pumping with pure male strength form. He had not even seen Kyla enter. Giving the bag a final punch before he casually turned – carefully avoiding her brother’s watchful glare – and sauntered straight in her direction. Unable to resist the beams of shining green that called louder than other beat in his head.

“You here to.. what was it you said, make me lick the mat?”

God he was pure molten sex walking on two legs but she steeled her nerves and fixed him with a raised brow that feigned indifference. Forcing her gaze to fix somewhere around the vicinity of his upper chest but the dripping sweat across the rippling flesh only short wired her entire thought process. He waved a hand in front of her face and she shook herself free from the daze.

“Come on Bean, ya can’t talk the trash and just walk. Not in here.”

He was baiting her. And god love him but finally seeing that teasing glint in his eye instead of the guarded look he normally cast was weakening her resistance fast. The fact that he was sculpted perfection was enough reason to want her hands on him, but the remembered years of friendly competition was wanting to wage a comeback on his arrogant ass too. Tommy executed some fancy footwork back towards the bag and drove a fist quickly into the torn leather side. _Fuck._ Every muscle a chiseled display and she had a brief vision of licking the one particular tattoo that stopped short of a perky nipple. His hands steadied the bag and he nodded towards it.

“Come on give it a try. Ya might like it.”

_Cheeky son of a bitch with that wink. The nerve._

Since her own nerves were playing havoc on her body, she leaned forward and tentatively tapped the bag. Tommy’s hands dropped to his sides and he fixed her with a hard glare.

“What the fuck was that shit? My ears are still ringing from that time you clocked me for stealing your diary… which by the way Bean do you still stuff those…”

Kyla leaped forward and clamped one hand over Tommy’s smirking mouth, while the other drove a balled fist into his stomach. Satisfaction pulling her mouth into a smirk of its own as the air left his body in one great huff before he doubled over hands on his knees. His head turned to the side, one eye squeezed shut as he took a breath.

“Yep, that’s the one I remember.”

She chuckled lightly before bending down to lightly smack a flushed cheek.

“You better be nice to me Tommy. And maybe I’ll let you show me a few things.”

Tommy straightened with a groan… not made any easier given the raucous applause that had broke out in the gym from their very interested audience. Tommy shook his head sending droplets of sweat flying and Kyla stepped back with a frown, before performing a mocking bow to her new admirers. Tommy chewed his lip than rubbed his cheek with a gloved fist; leveled a challenging glare.

“Yeah, I’d be happy to show you a lot of things.”

_Damn, he’d gotten smoother with age._ Her mouth clamped shut as indecision over this new dynamic between them gave her pause. If the damn sweat could just stop glistening off those abs she might be able to think of a comeback. Instead she stood with her mouth opening and closing silently while her eyes traced a drop of sweat that ran slowly down his treasure trail. _Shit._ She turned hastily away.

His brow raised and he bite his lip before taking a step close to tower over her. “Truth or dare Kyla?”

Her hands settled on her hips as she twisted slowly from side to side, considering her options, and just how far she was going to let this cheekiness slide. Truth could be much more dangerous now that they were older. By the gleam in those piercing blue eyes that kept drifting from her face to her chest leaving her feeling almost naked, there’s no telling what he might ask. As she glanced around and caught the many eyes silently watching their exchange, including the darkly clouded ones of her brother, it was easy to dismiss dare. No way would she be doing anything crazy in front of all these sweating, grunting hulks of testosterone. She ignored the few envious feminine gazes no doubt picturing her eyes clawed out.

Her gaze swung back to Tommy to find his twisted around and leveled somewhere around the area of her ass. Damn the way he bite that full bottom lip must drive the women absolutely wild. Certainly she wasn’t going to be thinking about it when she pulled her vibrator out of its hiding place later tonight. The bright pink bunny version she called _TLC._ The blush immediately stained her cheeks. _Good god never let that truth be known. She’d rather die._ It was bad enough the namesake was standing right in front of her looking like he wanted to throw her down upon the mat and have his way with her if she choose the daring option. The hunger in his eyes leaping between them and increasing her heart rate faster than any exercise class ever could. ,i >Just once. God just let me have him one time. 

Wide eyed she watched the rolling gait that screamed both confidence and grace as it advanced upon her, waiting for her answer. His arms making little flapping motions at his sides while he silently mouthed the clucking sounds. How any man could look both sexy as hell and silly at the same time was beyond any reasoning she was capable. Tommy loomed over her and leaned close to her ear. Those sweaty pecs blocking all else from her vision. As if she had eyes for anything but him right now. Or ever.

“So, what will it be Kyla? What. Do. You Want?”

Each word a hot fan of breath upon her neck. He leaned slightly away, holding her gaze and before she could give her answer, a truth of her own spread like a fire through her blood. The answer was all of him. 

And once would never be enough.

Before she could stop her own foolishness, her chin raised and the word spat forth with more confidence then she felt.

“Dare!”

Tommy chewed his cheek a moment, and then the slow grin crossed his face doing nothing to improve her confidence.


	12. Dare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We last left Kyla wondering and waiting: what kind of dare Tommy would issue? It had been a long time since she had lost to her childhood friend. Would their newly restored friendship make him go easier? Tommy wouldn’t dream of it, but how will he handle the nightmare that breaks in the middle?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot to cover in this chapter: Warnings for violence, drugs, domestic abuse, death/murder

Sweat rolled down her skin in thick salty beads in an effort to match the grueling pace he’d set. At first she had difficultly matching his rhythm. Mentally cursing her lack of activity of late. Her throat burned dry until she feared a lung might burst. Perspiration clinging to both of them in a shiny slick. Fascinated by how it shone on the rippling pecs and kept her focus there as she bounced along. Her head bobbed loosely from side to side in contrast to his powerful and graceful movements. Not the best form and she knew it would be felt in her knees if they didn’t slow down soon. Damn if she would give in on a dare though. The harsh, slapping sounds keeping a steady, but slowly faltering beat as the finish was in sight. Her head tilted back in an almost dying groan sure her body couldn’t take another second of this merciless pounding. 

Legs shaking and soon followed by a painful stitch in her side due to the heavy pants for breath. A deep frown creasing her brow when it was obvious Tommy still had plenty of air left for words. She was doing her best to respond, but her tongue felt about four sizes too big for her mouth at this point. _Was he a fucking machine?_ The salty sweat stung her eyes as it rolled in rivulets from her brow. Not enough to blind her vision to the precision and fluidity with which Tommy moved. His skin glowing like polished stone. Veins thickly corded in his arms as his muscles strained into each motion. God he was hard as granite and she wasn’t going to beg him to stop if it killed her. Her eyes brightly focused and cheeks flaming fire and floating on an exhausted kind of delirium. Whether it was from trying to keep up with his endurance, or brought on by dehydration, she wasn’t completely sure. This unbelievable high that flushed her skin and pushed her past the breaking point. Her sides ached with the continued effort and though she desperately sought the finish, her legs had morphed into lead. She hated feeling feeble; especially when there was nothing timid about Tommy’s relentless drive. She sucked in a huge gulp of air, felt the will leave her body…. “Tommy….I can’t… please.”

“Come on Bean, almost there. Stay with me.”

“I… can’t… breathe…”

“Just a few more….”

“Tommy…. oh god… have mercy.”

Her head loosely rolled forward, chin down on her heaving chest, and the final few steps were on wobbling legs and feet that felt encased in cement. Clothing clung desperately to her drenched body in the suffocating heat. Glancing through the tangled locks of hair that had escaped, she scowled at the arrogant brat when he actually turned around and ran a few steps backwards. Never broke stride and barely out of breath. _This. Jerk._

“Really? You’re giving up? You. Quitting?”

Bent over double with her palms on her knees and sucking too much wind to tell him to fuck off was the worst part of losing the dare. But honestly, running? The. Worst. People should only run when chased, and if he were chasing her then – maybe? But no, he was ahead the whole time. And thank god the saving grace was watching him run in those grey sweat pants. Noticing that train of thought was doing nothing to ease her breathing, Kyla stood and filled her lungs with as much air as possible. The crunch of his shoes on the pavement, with not one stumble in his gait, only peaking her temper higher. She doubled over again when a cramp pinched tightly. Tommy’s hand rested on her lower back as he bent down to her level.

“Y’alright soldier?”

She mouthed a fuck you and he laughed outright. Because people who have air in their lungs can laugh at others misfortune. Bastard.

“So I win? God I can’t believe it. When was the last time I won a dare?” 

He was jumping up and down on the spot, the excitement still coming off his sweat covered body in waves. If it didn’t look so painfully sexy she would have punched him in the mouth. Smack in those full lips that were laughing at her, when she wanted them to do other things to her. Dammit… adrenaline was still driving her thoughts obviously. She glared back silently at the snide little smirk they were currently curled into. His finger pointing until it briefly touched her nose and his head nodding. She groaned knowing what was coming.

“Davey Saunders birthday pool party.”

“Shut up Conlon.”

He gripped his sides, holding back the laughter. “You wore that bikini… remember? And I dared you to do the back flip off the diving board.”

“I’m gonna punch you again.”

But he was already laughing down memory lane and there was no stopping it now.

“And you did it, fuck you were fearless Kyla and we were all screaming like mad because it was just fuckin perfect. I mean you nailed it. Perfect form.” His eyes shone in a teasing glint as he stepped closer, eyes sweeping down her sweat drenched body. “Perfect. Form.” He winked slyly and god help her but her entire body clenched with need. 

“Don’t say it. Don’t you say it Tommy.”

“Yeah, we didn’t know how perfect until you came up smiling and yelling at me “take that Conlon!” and all us just staring with our mouths open because you had lost your top.”

“I hate you.”

His face split into a huge grin and shoulders shook, but the warm glow in his eyes as he held her gaze set her heart hammering once again. Still, she couldn’t let him away with this absurd cheekiness. She smacked him hard in the chest, setting him back on his heels. And only making him laugh harder.

“And technically since I did the flip, I did win. So stuff it Tommy.”

Tommy closed the distance between them in two confident strides, leaning down and holding her gaze for a few breathless seconds before he cast a teasing wink.

“Oh no hon, I definitely won.”

~

The water was blessedly still cool on this scorching day, soothing her throat, though doing nothing for her flaming cheeks. His own face barely flushed as he took huge gulps from his own bottle, smiling at her while drops collected on his lips. Eyes and mouth shining in the sunshine and her sitting like a weak fool with barely breath to speak yet. _Honestly who runs on a day like this, let alone dares another? _Ugh, it burned to lose though and she took the few moments of quiet to collect her thoughts. And think of cake. And ice cream. A moan escaped before she could hold it back and Tommy’s head turned to her, brow raised. The teasing, warm glow still present.__

__“That a good moan or a bad moan Bean?”_ _

___Oh how perfect._ _ _

__“Well if you don’t know the difference by now Charms, I doubt there is any help for ya.” She smirked and swigged from her water bottle._ _

__“Sounds like another dare to me.” His gaze fastened on her widened eyes. “Sure you’re up for another round, now me, I mean - I can go for a long…”_ _

__Kyla finally made good on at least one threat and punched against his chest, feeling the flex of the muscles beneath her palm, before he fell back against the grass laughing. He lay there for a moments doing various stretches and Kyla sighed wondering when this torture would ever end. He rolled on his side, head propped on his elbow and tapped her leg._ _

__“Hey, remember that cake your mom made every birthday? The one with the chocolate and vanilla swirled?”_ _

__Kyla swallowed and nodded silently._ _

__“And she used to put the coins inside, damn near breaking our teeth every year but fuck we loved that cake. So much we decided we couldn’t wait a whole year and tried to make it ourselves that time?” He nudged her knee with his knuckles and Kyla’s body stiffened, her head turned away. “Kyla remember what happened? Eh?”_ _

__His knuckles kept tapping on her knee and she brushed his hand impatiently away. Refused to meet his gaze, and Tommy caught up in one good memory of his youth missed the lack of smile._ _

__“You mixed the boxes of salt and sugar, oh fuck that was the worst cake ever. Horrible.” His shoulders shook and he fell back against the ground once more. “Your dad was pretty amazing about it though. Much better than my old man back then. Right… Kyla?”_ _

__Tommy propped back up on his elbows, finally registering something amiss in the way her arms had folded around her body tightly as though there was a chill she could not shake. “Kyla, do you remember your dad..”_ _

__She swiped a hand across her cheeks and her voice came as a quiet warning that woke his deeply buried sensitive nature. “He ate the whole thing.”_ _

__Tommy watched her carefully. “Yeah he did. Good man your dad.”_ _

__“Was he?”_ _

__The dampness on her cheeks was unmistakably now and Tommy’s heart began an odd offbeat measure. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like the answer, but the way she had suddenly withdrawn told him to ask it anyway. Carefully he studied the woman beside him; saw her drift slowly away and the young girl he’d left suddenly emerge._ _

__“So how is he, I mean, your parents? Haven’t seen them in the hood since I got back.”_ _

__“They’re dead.”_ _

__His heart climbed to his throat; unsure he’d heard right. “They? What, you mean both of them?”_ _

__Her head nodded and the tears began to flow unchecked. She couldn’t bear to look at him. See that soft look in his eyes or the way he chewed his cheek when he was battling his own emotions. Stop thinking about how strong those arms had grown in the years of separation. Or how good it would feel to become closer again. Kyla shook with both grief and resistance, not knowing how to break in front of the man, when she had once been so broken over the boy who’d left. Before she could brush it all aside, Tommy moved closer and wrapped an arm around the thin shoulders that trembled._ _

__“Aw fuck Kyla. I didn’t know. I’m sorry, so sorry Bean. Hell, no one told me.” He held her tight against his side, head shaking at the oversight of something he should have known._ _

__“They were good people Kyla, I’m sorry I wasn’t here. Hell, why didn’t you say something?”_ _

__She pulled away, hands pressed against the strong chest, but Tommy grabbed about her wrists this time. One fist raised but he caught it again and leaned in closer. So close their foreheads barely grazed._ _

__“What happened Kyla? Come on, we used to tell each other everything.”_ _

__Eyes brimming and her lips compressed so tight they turned white, she shook her head; eyes silently pleading. Tommy held on tight with strong hands and intent gaze, his own eyes now blurring. Her shoulders finally slumped and she hung limp and spent._ _

__“He wasn’t good. Not in the end in Tommy.”_ _

__Tommy felt the colour drain from his face as a dozen scenarios ran through his mind. Not the least of whether Mr. Prior had hurt his own daughter in the years he had been gone. Hard to believe based on the man he knew, but hell he was just a kid. A kid carrying around his own secret trauma. He would give anything for that darkness not to touch Kyla, and said his first silent prayer in years that he was not too late. But it was there in every tear that fell and splashed upon his own hand. The lines of something survived etched in the worry that creased her brow. Her name passed his lips quietly and he pulled her into the circle of his arms just as the dam broke free. Her entire body wracked with sobbing and his own heart breaking that there was nothing he could do. Except wait. His hands brushed along her back still damp with sweat and gently through the wind tossed tangles of hair, until he finally felt her body began to relax and her crying softened. His mouth pressed near her ear, a soft caress of unspoken promise._ _

__“Can you tell me what happened?” A shake of head against his shoulder. “Why.. Kyla, it’s me. Tommy.”_ _

__Kyla pulled back, mouth twisted into a silent grimace of pain before she finally sniffed loudly and spoke. “I don’t want you to think less of him; of us Tommy.”_ _

__His hand moved to stroke her hair, a cheek and then held her chin lightly. She saw the look of anger slowly shift the features of his face into hard lines and tightened jaw. The words barely ground out between clenched teeth._ _

__“Did he… hurt you Ky?”_ _

__Her eyes widened and head shook. “No no, nothing like that. But…it’s bad Tommy. I hated him. You’ll hate him… maybe me.” Her voice broke on the final words and every protective instinct within Tommy rose in a powerful surge._ _

__“Oh no no, sssh with that shit. You know I’d never hate you, what is that? This is me. Us.”_ _

__The grip on his free hand tightened as her shoulders heaved in a breath of air. Several times she made to start, only to choke back another round of tears and regain her composure. Tommy waited, squeezing her fingers lightly in encouragement each time. Wishing he could pass whatever strength her could to her, but also wondering what the hell could have gone so wrong. Kyla finally met his eyes, saw the years roll back and once more that feeling of safety that was always Tommy surrounded her in its warmth. The eyes that held her and the arms that wouldn’t let go. A huge breath inhaled, and then the story released._ _

__Barely nineteen years old and her whole life changed. Again._ _

__He’d only been gone about five years, and with a swallow of regret he realized he could have come home then. If he had not joined the Marines, maybe life would have been different; for both of them. What slammed him hardest was the cruel, bitter parallel they shared: her mom had become ill. The bills from her medical care piling up day after day and harder to make ends meet with only one working parent. Her school work pushed inside so that she could care for her mom and Tommy’s heart squeezed that they had been living similar lives all that time. Miles apart, but painfully treading the same path. Their childhoods stripped away under the call of duty before they were prepared to answer. And yet they did._ _

__Her father committing one foolish act of desperation in order to save them all, only to lose what mattered the most. The drugs he sold from the pharmacy where he was employed were not supposed to end up in the hands of a teenager. A boy Tommy knew from his wrestling days. He remembered he was good; a promising future ahead. It wasn’t all supposed to end in an overdose in some dirty back alley of the Burgh. Her father had been devastated by the tragedy, but life wasn’t finished with the Prior family yet._ _

__Just a few streets over another devastated father, weary of the war on drugs that had infested his home – his only boy - took matters into his own hands. The thirst for justice and revenge carrying his tired feet to their front door late one evening; the gun concealed in his waistband. Racked with his own guilt, her father opened the door – invited the man who he had caused such great pain and loss into his home. His own need for redemption blinding him to danger. All that happened in that home was more loss. Another tragedy to highlight the morning papers. The fact that Kyla had witnessed her parent’s murder and the gunman’s death at his own hands hurt Tommy to his core. Danny, just a little boy then, held protectively in her arms and she’d been holding on ever since. Her own dreams for the future set aside so that Danny might have a chance to escape the horrors of one night where no justice or redemption were found, and the only lesson learned was how unfair life truly could be. Another burden of truth they now shared._ _

__Her tears ran down his shoulder, mingling with the sweat that still lingered on his skin under the blazing sun. A beautiful day to be broken, he thought with the overwhelming irony of it all. Her voice muffled where she pressed against his chest._ _

__“I hated that house for years. Hated coming home from working like a dog every day and walking into that room where it happened. Hated that man. Hated my father. The only thing that kept me going was Danny. Knowing they would take him away if I couldn’t keep it together.” A deep sigh exhaled, warm against his skin. “I should have just left. Taken us somewhere new and started over. But I was afraid too. I wasn’t brave like you Tommy.”_ _

__Shame washed over him as he recalled the times he’d run away. Even now he saw the hard truth that he was limiting his time at home in order to avoid the still unresolved issues with his own father. He too had acted in desperation only to achieve a worse outcome. Promises broken because all the negative shit just coiled inside him, wanting release. He saw himself in all those fathers – and even his own. He thought he was a good fighter, but it was the fragile, slip of a girl in his arms who had fought the good fight. Not for herself, but for the only person she loved left in this world. Now that he had seen her break, he couldn’t just leave her to bleed out while thinking he was some kind of hero._ _

__“I deserted my unit Kyla. You think I’m strong because I can rip a door off a tank? Lay a man out with one hit?” Kyla raised her head and met his gaze; saw the sadness well up and wash the anger lines smooth. “Nah, that was all just anger coming out of me. And I didn’t know how to stop it. And there was always more. Still is, every day. I wasn’t brave – I left because I was tired of being afraid all the time. But you - you stayed. Because you were strong Ky.”_ _

__“I don’t feel strong, not today. And as you plainly saw, I’m not good at running.”_ _

__The small laugh was forced, but it was better than tears._ _

__“Yeah, well Ky, I don’t want to be. Not this way. Not anymore.”_ _

__Even biting down hard on her bottom lip didn’t prevent the question from slipping through. “Sooo, does that mean you’re sticking around for a while?”_ _

__The look he gave as he pulled a finger through the strands of hair by her temple almost snatched her breath away. For the first time she saw the need behind the pain he tried to hide. Saw herself reflected back and hope blossomed pushing out the weeds of grief that had threatened to choke. Insides turned to jelly as she prayed silently._ _

__“Yeah Ky, I’m not going anywhere. Not this time.” A hand rubbed her shoulder gently, than landed a teasing punch. “Who else will teach you how to not breathe like a dying horse when you run?”_ _

__It was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen that shone back and he thanked this day that had given him a small blessed moment amidst all the broken pieces._ _

__“I’m sorry I wasn’t here though… I should have been here. And I don’t know why Pop never said a word.”_ _

__A hesitant grimace replaced the smile._ _

__“Ummm… Tommy I still don’t go near your dad – even though I hear he’s doing much better. It’s just, it all seemed like water under the bridge. You were gone. Ten years gone and most people that would remember have moved away now. I just kept to myself, trying to make for both of us.”_ _

__“I would have come Kyla, how can you not know that?”_ _

__“Because you left Tommy. You left me without a goodbye or explanation or even a single letter ever…”_ _

__Tommy’s placed a hand over her lips, forcing her gaze back to his own._ _

__“Kyla - is that what you think?” His head shook back and forth, teeth biting his bottom lip as he fought to maintain control. “Nah Bean – it wasn’t you I left, you hear me? I didn’t leave you – I left him and this damn place. That’s all.”_ _

__All the air locked in her lungs when Tommy pulled her forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. His breath a warm whisper against soft skin. “I would have come home Ky.”_ _

__Unable to find her own voice, she could only lift her arms around the thick muscles of his neck and press her own lips to the smooth skin of his cheek. Tommy’s hands ran down the curve of her back and pressed tightly against her waist to hold her fast. The cold press of her nose against his neck bringing a smile to his lips. She sighed deep and all but melted into him and slowly all the wires that he had surrounded his heart began to wither. Her voice a soft and sweet plea in his ears._ _

__“Will you take me home now Tommy? I’m so tired all a sudden.”_ _

__Slowly they untangled from one another, fingers grazing along bare skin as though the thought of losing touch was unbearable. Tommy pulled her gently to standing, a fierce grip on one hand as they made their way back to the gym. Wondering at how their roads had been so hard. That there had been so little softness in their youths. Except what they found in each other. He couldn’t stop stealing frequent looks as they strolled hand in hand, marveling at how despite the twisted turns, somehow it all lead back to each other. How she had turned a house of horror into one where love could dwell and be sheltered. He was mighty fucking proud of her – maybe more than anyone he’d ever known._ _

__After he released her with a final kiss upon the brow that trailed lightly down a cheek before he pulled away. His gaze unwilling to leave those eyes until he saw the smile return, but the pull to glance towards his own house proved too strong. The one question burning in his mind as he walked the short distance home. Was he strong enough to knit his own back together?_ _

__~_ _

__Paddy glanced up from clearing the table just as the door slammed closed. The heavy tread he knew was his sons bringing both a smile and a weary sigh._ _

__“Food’s not likely cold yet son, if you’re interested.”_ _

__His entire being braced when he saw Tommy leaning cross armed within the doorway, that sullen look on his face that meant nothing good was about to come. Taking a deep breath he straightened, that familiar feeling of lost time turning his thoughts against him._ _

__“Now if you get some kind of regular hours Tommy, I could have planned a meal better. Ya gotta give some kind of notice….”_ _

__Words failed when Tommy shook his head and Paddy could see the fight waged to hold back the brimming in his eyes. Saw the moment his son lost the battle and a single word passed the grimace of his mouth._ _

__“Kyla.”_ _

__Paddy’s heart near stopped in his chest as he was struck now remembering that Tommy had not known. He took several steps forward, but Tommy raised his hand, as everything threatened to rage from his very core._ _

__“Why? Why didn’t you say something?”_ _

__“Now Tommy, it was a long time ago. You were gone. And that girl… why she never comes around, you see?”_ _

__All the familiar bitterness broke through and he fell back on the comfort of old habits. Blaming his father fueling the anger that was rising within._ _

__“Yeah really Pop? Why do you think that might be?”_ _

__Losing the battle as tears ran down his face and all the hatred surged to the surface demanding to be spilled._ _

__“She’s afraid of you Pop. Still. That’s what you did to her. To all of us.”_ _

__Every cell in his body threatened to burst wide with the grief and hatred that pressed down. Paddy still moving towards him and for one brief second he imagined himself driving his fist into his old, weathered face. The satisfying spurt of blood that would be his release from this pent up aching plague determined to take him down. In a groan of anger and pain, he turned and punched the wall. A small glimmer of satisfaction when his father took several spaces backwards. The fear he was able to instill after all these years. Then his stomach rolled in a sickening pitch and he doubled over._ _

__“She was alone.” His father hand rested on a shoulder and he flinched, but didn’t move away. “I should have been here.”_ _

__“Tommy, I tried to help, I did. She kept to herself mostly and I was fighting my own battle you know.”_ _

__Tommy raised, a hard glare fixed on his father. So many words needing to be said, but lost in his own regrets so that they stuck in his throat._ _

__“Son, now I have a lot to answer for – you know that. But this? This isn’t about me Tommy.”_ _

__His own face hardened and once again Tommy saw the man the child had feared as Paddy came closer, the concern in his eyes keeping him still._ _

__“And trust me, punching things isn’t going to burn that anger away. You’ll never be able to hit hard enough Tommy.”_ _

__The look of defiance slowly melted, a weary, charged calm settling over the small kitchen. Tommy rocked back and forth on his heels, eyes shifting about the space, until finally coming to rest on his dad._ _

__“I found my way back … but I don’t know where to go from here.”_ _

__Paddy closed the distance, relief flooding through him that his son didn’t shrink or turn away. Not wanting to push further, he simply lay a hand across his shoulders._ _

__“Then you need to be with others who are asking the same. Been where you’re standing. Finn McCool has been asking about you.”_ _

__Tommy frowned, shrugged his father free. “Aww, I don’t know Pop. I don’t know if I am ready to be around all those people feeling sorry for themselves. I mean… that ain’t me.”_ _

__His voice broke on the final words and Paddy’s eyebrow raised. “Ya asking, or telling me that Tommy? Because your old man may not know much, but in this one thing, you gotta trust me son. Whether you like it or not, they are your people. There’s an Al-Non right after my group tonight, what do you say?”_ _

__Tommy’s eyes wandered once again, finally falling on knuckles bruised and lightly covered in fresh blood. Tired of repeating patterns and old memories that would not obey the oath of silence he commanded. Fresh tears threatened to fall._ _

__“Tommy, ya gotta let it go. Hey, if you’re old man can do this… you… you were always so much stronger son. No matter what Brendan asked, you would never back down. You looked after your mother…”_ _

__Now Paddy’s voice broke, recalling what life had demanded of his beautiful, young boy and how it had contributed to the obstinate and fragile man before him._ _

__He shuffled towards the door, grabbing his car keys as he passed._ _

__“Ya still got that chip I gave ya?”_ _

__Already half way to the front door, he tossed the challenge over his shoulder before any answer was given._ _

__“I dare you to use it.”_ _

__As he stepped outside into the waning light, he heard the pounding steps up to the attic. The car already started when Tommy came out the front door in fresh clothing, and down the driveway at a half run. As he came alongside the car, he tossed the small chip in the air, caught it cleanly, smiling at his father through the dash window._ _

__He didn’t even complain when Paddy pushed the play button and the latest paperback narrated through the ancient speakers. A deep voice describing some man named Nick and his fascination with trout in a stream. Tommy rolled his eyes at Paddy, wondering what his father’s deal with fish was anyway. Paddy caught himself before rolling his own eyes, knowing his son not recognizing Hemingway was just another failure he could add to the pile._ _

__Except this one would be easier to set right. With a smile, he turned the volume dial another notch, ignoring the deep groans from the passenger side as they drove through the darkening city._ _


	13. Just Desserts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: angst, PTSD, Anxiety, AA/Al Anon, mild NSFW, fluffy Tommy make you cry

If there was one truth that retired Staff Sergeant Finn McCool spoke, it was that his wife Grace’s brownies were shit. As he sucked the dry, dust like paste, which tasted suspiciously like carob and not in fact chocolate, from his front teeth, Tommy regretfully eyed the coffee cake on his father’s plate. Fantastic. Here he was trying to stick to his diet, when it should have been obvious being the first to cut a square from the pan was not a good sign. Paddy licked his lips and raised a brow at his son’s obvious discomfort and struggle to hold his tongue silent, while Finn stood holding a plate piled high with every other dessert but those made by his wife. The smirk barely hidden and Tommy shifted awkwardly and managed to swallow a mouthful without choking.

“What I tell ya boy? Think I’d steer a brother wrong?”

Tommy gritted his teeth, tempted to take another bite in defense of poor Grace who he’d never met. The burst of laughter from both Finn and Paddy stirring his ire higher, but who was he kidding? Grace would never know and it was his own ego he was trying to salvage. 

“Go ahead and spit that out soldier. Can’t have ya surviving what was hell over there, only to get done in by my wife’s lousy baking.”

Tommy considered it a direct order and spat the remainder into his napkin. Eyes lingering on the neatly scripted Serenity Prayer now smudged beneath the remnants. _Wisdom to know the difference._ Tommy gave a small grunt of laughter before showing the men.

“Guess I read that part too late, eh?”

Finn glanced down at his own napkin, a wry smile twisting his face before he glanced around the room at those gathered.

“Yeah, a simple bit of advice for some very complicated people… but believe me son, the key is to just focus on acceptance and action. Now ya got that last part because your obstinate ass is finally here, but I suspect that first part is gonna be a bit trickier.” He nudged Paddy with a knee, but gave a crooked smile and grunt. “Especially if you take after your old man here.”

Paddy gave a sideways glance towards Tommy and there was a pain behind the small smile that was as loud as a shout. A flash of insight slammed into his gut like an iron fist: anger was just a shield to pain. In that aspect, he was exactly like his old man and with that realization came a another sickening drop in his stomach. The room had fallen quiet as the meeting came to order, but Tommy’s mind was cast back to battlefields. Soldiers so scared and desperate that they tossed grenades randomly, or fired wildly; faces twisted and grotesque as they screamed madly at an unseen foe. Others welcomed the pain and odd loneliness of a soldier’s life; letting it all fester inside until they spit it back onto the world they hated with their own brand of violence. Sometimes crossing the very lines they swore to defend. Tommy shifted in his seat, eyes focused on the napkin, while the scenes switched to the Sparta fight ring. The machine gun like roar of the crowd and the blood he could so easily spill. Backed into a corner but refusing to give. Willing his body to be broken further because change was the unknown and better the devil you knew. 

His emotions jagged and insides twisted tightly, the speakers words were barely heard over the other noises in his head. Flight response kicked into overdrive and Tommy was perched on the edge of his seat ready to bolt, when Paddy’s fingers gently tapped upon his knee. At some point Finn had dragged a chair and sat on his other side, a soft jab elbow into Tommy’s ribs. Both men’s gazes silently challenging him and Tommy swallowed the pride of a man full grown, but still feeling as a scared kid just sent to time-out. His head pounded something fierce. A terrible ache that crept from a clenched jaw and round to the back of his skull. The words of the man at the front coming through in waves. The desperation and anxiety of dealing with an alcoholic that in some dumb twist of fate lead him to self-medicate with sleeping pills. Tommy’s mind reached back to his own reluctance when handing over the pills he relied on to keep the horrors at bay to his father before training. 

_I am not these people. I am not this._ But the refrain was beginning to lose any notion of truth as he began to see himself in every painful word torn from the stranger at the front. He thought he had pushed his own emotional trauma to the back of his mind, where it beat as an unseen pulse daily. Now he knew it could leave scars just the same as any physical blow. His suffering – the buried memories he held - had become a thing made of glass, and the tighter he clung, the deeper it cut. It was time to lay it all down and let the wounds close. Only with that burial could the awakening begin. Only then could he discover who the real Tommy Conlon was intended to be.

As his mind slowly opened, his heart also became a little more receptive towards these “people feeling sorry for themselves.” He saw a little piece of himself in each of them. Gradually the panic that had gathered in a cluster of sparks began to lessen. Tension slowly eased from his limbs so that he leaned back in his chair, attention fully focused. His eyes threatening to spill at times when some brutal honesty caught the crowd off guard. He doubted he could ever be so forthcoming or transparent. Then again he had not been exactly shy in his biting words towards his father. His own brother. No problem spewing his anger, hurt and resentment then. Why should this be harder? That primal response to flee was hard wired in all of us, and that was a truth he readily accepted. It was the Action to change it that would take time. One step. One day. That really was all he could do. 

The last speaker, a woman who had recently buried her alcoholic husband, spoke of how our minds tended to focus on the bad memories. Now that her nightmare of abuse was over, she wanted to recall good things in her life, but her memory always brought the darkness into her light. It had taken a long time to realize and accept it all was a part of her; the beauty and the horror. Still, she was determined to keep focusing on the good things in life, with the hope that eventually the bad would fade away. _Starve the monsters by savouring the good things, the happy memories that feed your soul._

That last bit struck a strong cord in Tommy. So much so that he declined the last piece of coffee cake that Finn had managed to snag for him to make up for the disastrous brownies. Or a cup of coffee from the lady who had spoken that nugget of truth straight into his heart. He wasn’t particularly religious. Had even doubted his father’s own new found faith. But he did know what memories he wanted to hold onto. The one thing that had always been good for his soul. He was already out the door when his father’s voice halted his strides.

“Ya sure you’re okay without a ride son?”

Paddy stood framed and frowning deeply in the doorway, even as his view of Tommy was mostly lost to the shadows. His voice coming from somewhere in the darkness.

“Ya Pop, it’s all good. Swear it… just somewhere I gotta be.”

Finn cast a questioning concerned glance towards Paddy. Tommy’s running feet fading into the distance.

“Running again ya think? Too much for him maybe.”

Paddy clamped a hand on his friends’ shoulder and shook his head, an amused chuckle. 

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’s heading towards some good memories. Probably making some new ones.” Finn’s brow raised and he cast a glance towards the direction Tommy had run. “Give me that last piece of cake and I’ll fill you in.”

The man’s eyes slowly drifted from the night that had seemed to swallow Tommy whole, and down to the cake, then to Paddy’s and saw the lack of concern. “Alright, deal. But it better be worth it Conlon. There’s lots of brownie left and I ain’t above making ya eat some if this ain’t good.”

“Well Finn, ya see it’s quite simple… there’s a girl. A real nice girl.”

Finn smiled wide. “Well well, isn’t that the start of any good story.”

~

Tommy’s lungs burned like fire when he finally came to stand bathed in streetlight before Kyla’s door. Then he noted that the hour must be late, and most normal folk were probably heading to bed because they had jobs in the morning. Anxiety and doubt began to creep over what he had thought was a good idea. The urge to see her before the day closed to strong a pull to allow his feet to lead him home. Uncertain he paced along the steps and was just about to book it out of there, when he spied Danny’s amused smile in the window. _Fuckin great._

The kid just stared back and it burned Tommy’s gut that he now was forced to commit to knocking or risk Danny spilling the details to Kyla. After several knocks and no movement from behind the glass he was also forced to admit little brother had no intention of making this easy on him. 

“Come on man, gimme a break will ya.”

Danny just smirked and shrugged his shoulders.

Tommy paced several times, eyes glancing upward to what he suspected was still Kyla’s bedroom; noting the soft glow behind the curtains.

“I know she’s home Danny… let me in, I need to see her.”

“You think I’m gonna let you fuck my sister that easy?! Hell no.”

_Mouthy lil shit._ Tommy’s face turned red, despite the remark being not entirely incorrect, and he stepped right up to the glass fully intending to yell back at this cocky kid. A deep breath released and he managed to rein in his temper with knotted fists. 

“Come on Danny, you know it’s not like that. Kyla and me, we go way back, now you know that.”

Danny’s head shook a silent no back and Tommy turned on his heel in frustration. He just wanted this day to end with a measure of something pure and good. He’d been feeling raw and on the edge all day. First finding out about their parents and then the meeting… suddenly he walked back to the window. Stood silently a few moments knowing there was a chance he was going to bring back some bad feelings for this kid. Shit. He wanted in that house, but he also knew he’d want someone to tread carefully if it was about his mom. And Danny had lost both. Then again, so had he in a way. The soft touch was not his strong suit, but he lowered his voice and met the boys’ gaze straight on anyway.

“I know about your parents. She told me today. I just wanna check and see she’s okay.”

Danny’s face had paled several shades and for a moment Tommy could see the young boy that used to follow at their heels. That lost, painful look he suspected lined his own face at times.

“I’m so sorry Danny. I didn’t know until today, I swear it.”

The last words spoken to empty air as Danny fled the window and Tommy considered whether he should turn to the door, or down the steps. Just about to do the latter when suddenly the door tore open and Danny’s blurry eyed face stared back.

“Legit man?”

“Yay, yay man, straight up I wouldn’t lie about that. I’m real sorry man. And she’s gonna think I’m an ass if I don’t check in ya know? Come on.”

With a nod, Danny opened the door and Tommy lay a hand on his shoulder and offered a genuinely sympathetic gaze before brushing past and dashing up the stairs towards Kyla’s room.

~

The night was filled with so many stars it was hard to believe that anything bad could ever happen beneath their blazing light. Yet, between the two of them an entire planet of hurt seemed to have revolved its destructive path. Tucked under the blanket she had grabbed when he suggested their old spot on the hill, her head leaning against his shoulder and the soft tickle of her hair on against his cheek, it was even harder to believe that life had still brought them back around to where it all began. Back to what was good. The same hill. The same starry sky. The same fluttering nervousness in his gut at the feel of her pressed warm against his body. The push and pull of protecting her and wanting to possess her waging a war that he suspected if she looked at him with those wild eyes once more, he was going to lose. 

“Will you go again Tommy?”

His headed nodded against her own. Breathed her scent in with the crisp night air. “Yeah, it was good you know. I mean it’s hard to hear other people talk about those things, you know. But after… it doesn’t feel quite so alone. Just knowing someone else kinda knows what you’re feeling. What you’re going through. It makes it easier, ya know?”

“Yeah, I know. I really do. It’s a good step.” Kyla leaned closer, one hand sliding around his chest to hug tight. Her face lifted to meet his gaze and Tommy’s breath held. “And you’re not alone Tommy. Not anymore.”

He smiled down, a lopsided grin that hinted at the doubt he held inside. “Yeah, ya wanna hear all that shit Ky? Ya gonna listen to all the bloody business of drunks and wars? Cause it’s a lot of shit locked up in me and I don’t know how it’s gonna come out, I just know now it’s got to. And I don’t want that on you Ky…I want us…”

His words halted by her palm across his mouth; the slap pulling a small moan of pain. “What kind of nonsense is that Tommy Conlon? Like I dragged my tired ass up here in the dead of a cold night because I thought you wrote me a damn poem?” 

Her small hands shoved against his chest, but tangled in the blanket she couldn’t move away. One strong arm bent around her waist to hold her tight until she stopped struggling and cast him a reproaching look that immediately softened when she saw the worry and concern in his own gaze.

“It’s a lot Ky… I don’t want it to be a burden… for you to carry it.”

“And I don’t want you to carry it alone. Isn’t that the point? Or did you just bring me up here to stare at the sky, huh? Why you knocking on my door then Tommy?”

Her face so close he could see the amber flecks in the vivid green. The wisps of breath in the cool night breeze that mixed with his own. The soft flush that crept up her cheeks and the hammer of her heart against his chest. 

“Ky.”

“Tommy.”

Her hand reached up to touch his cheek, voice barely a whisper, but screamed into his heart. “Who else I got? It’s always been you. Now you’re gonna push me away? Again.”

His hand moved down the length of her back in long, smooth strokes. The other reached up to brush wind swept hair from her troubled face. “Not exactly pushing you away right now Ky. In case you didn’t notice.”

She bite her lower lip through a small smile and Tommy bite back a groan of desire. Waiting in near agony for a clear sign. “Yeah I noticed. Ya gonna make me wait another ten or so years Tommy?”

Their gazes locked for what seemed an eternity. Each one teetering on the edge of what might have been charging into the here and now. Their breath shaky and limbs trembling where they press against the other. Tommy slowly raised himself, keeping her slender body close, while his hand slid around to the back of her neck. Tangled in the thick tresses and she tilted her head back, eyes slowly drifting closed. Anticipation almost a scent between them. Pressing his forehead against her own and then the warm press of his lips sends a shiver coursing through her entire body. Sensing hesitation she nudged her nose against his cheek, pressing her own lips upon the roughened skin. Then their mouths drift slowly, seeking the other until they meet in quick, soft exploration. A tender meeting that belies the urgency they both feel, before pulling apart with a sigh. Eyes peeling open with wonder and passion barely held in check. Staring deeply until they can no longer contain what has always been written in those very stars. 

The next brush of lips no innocent tease, but a fiery and demanding crush of longing not willing be ignored another moment. Tommy losing himself deeper and deeper with every moment that passes and his mouth still slants across her own. Every sigh and moan he pulls from her. Whatever he imagined kissing Kyla would be like, there’s no way he could have prepared for how every fiber of his being responds to this meeting of lips. To finally tasting her, drawing her very essence to his own. The cherry balm he can taste as his tongue runs along the seam of her lips sending him back in time, and holding him fast in the now. How her body instinctively molds to his own, melting into him, sending him far beyond mere arousal. Nothing in his life ever hinting towards a moment like this, where the last puzzle piece of a world you could never fully envision, finally slid into place. And it fit perfectly. Then the world fell away and it was comforting in a way that words could never be. His thumb stroked long her cheek, flushed and cool to the touch. Her hands drifted up beneath his shirt and ran along his spine, pressing him closer. Gliding around his rib cage and over the taut stomach muscles before pushing him back down upon the ground. 

A hoarse moan erupted as she lay her body atop his muscular length and found his mouth again. The soft whimpers driving him to the breaking point and he gripped her hips tight. Guiding the slow, easy roll against his hardness and every sensation flooded his entire being. His brain lit on fire and with a husky moan aw shit Kyla. 

His own name a barely, breathed whisper between the merging of tongues and throaty moans as his hand glided up the length of exposed thigh where her legs straddled his waist in a fierce grip. Strong hands kneading the roundness of her ass in motion with the press of her pelvis against his own. In the back of his mind aware he’s hard as a damn rock and it’s Kyla rubbing her clothed pussy over his erection; though still bewildered it’s actually happening. He clutched her closer, mouth demanding, but it was Kyla who pulled away and began a slow descent of passionate kisses down his lean torso. Small fingers traced the waist of his pants, just barely grazing the swollen tip of his cock; the warm press of her lips and trail of wet tongue just inches behind. Tommy suddenly sat up and pulled her onto his lap with a deep grown.

“Fuck Kyla, we gotta slow down.” 

Words that seemed hollow by the clutch he maintained on her hips and press of his cock upward as she pressed down upon him. His head dipped and mouth fastened on the slender throat and Kyla leaned back with a whimper, the heat of her core burning between them. This mounting passion tearing down his walls of resistance brick by brick and he almost knocked the whole damn thing down when she leaned back into his muscular frame, hands diving under the soft cotton shirt. Her touch doing amazing things to his body, his mind and filling his heart so full it threatened to leak from his eyes. 

Kyla couldn’t touch him enough. Get him close enough. Though he was close enough she could easily tell he wanted her something fierce too. Her pussy practically wept its own joy rubbing along the thick bulge still hidden beneath his grey sweats. Every bit of him felt so good. So right. And it had been such a long wait. So many nights in her own girlish room with her body still on fire from innocent touches though he’d been gone years. Flames he reignited with one kiss and an entire inferno roared to life in every cell. Spread it’s hot, licking flames along her skin. Each time he brought those amazing, lush lips back to her own, her heart threatened to leap right out of her chest. Still she can sense a resistance. A holding back. A strong hand that grips her inquisitive fingers just before they dip into the front of his pants. Damn he was so hard she could cum just rubbing against him right now. Just a few more strokes and she’d join those stars above. And it would be Tommy. She pulled back and the hot intensity of his gaze only magnified the sparks engulfing her senses. His hands had slid upward and stopped right beneath the curve of her breasts. Thumbs gently rubbing just beneath the mounds while he held her gaze, his head moving in a slow motion shake. _No. No. Don’t say stop. Not now._

“Kyla, we can’t. I can’t…”

She bite down hard on her bottom lip, eyes watering and she willed them back to their corners as the colour drained from her face. Her lips stammering over words that wouldn’t form and vulnerability drops her gaze from his.

“You’re saying no? You don’t want…”

Tommy pulled her close and kissed her fiercely, before breathing the denial in a husky tone.

“I’m saying fuck yes Kyla. Oh god you have no idea how badly I want to flip you over and just… for hours Kyla.” Another kiss that only his strict sense of duty to protect ended. “Damn.”

The shy smile stamped and sealed into his heart forever.

“Just not here. Not like this.”

“I think it’s pretty romantic.”

_Was he really saying no to this woman?_ Two minutes ago he was damn close to cumming in his pants without even barely touching her. And those eyes; the sadness and lingering fear almost broke him in two. 

“Well yeah it is. Because it’s you Ky, and I don’t want to be here with anyone else. Couldn’t be here with anyone but you.” His face nuzzled down into the soft hollow of her throat. Mouth tasting the warm, frenzied pulse beneath and moving in slow motion along the slender column until he nipped her earlobe gently. His breath fanned her hair and teased flushed skin. “But you know, I’m pretty thorough guy Ky. I’m gonna need a lot of time to do this right.” 

It felt like the entire night air was pulled into her lungs as the words washed over her. The slow capture of his lips over hers dulling her senses even more. So much promise behind each gentle caress. If only he could steal away her worries as easily as he did her breath. _Don’t leave me, not now._

As if he read her mind, tucking the stray hairs behind an ear while he captured her eyes in a hold that told her the words before he ever spoke them.

“I’m not going anywhere Ky. Not again. Okay?”

Lips pressed tight to stem the flow of tears that threatened to spill, she could only nod. The brightness in those jade depths telling Tommy the words she couldn’t speak; and the still lingering desire she didn’t even try to hide. _How did he get so fuckin lucky?_ Those dreamy lips spread into a smirk even the devil would be envious to witness. Eyes glinting with passion and something else she’d only ever dared to dream. 

“It’s gonna take an entire night for me to love you right Kyla,” he fell back onto the ground gathering her tight against his chest; pulling the blanket over to ward off the chill, “but for this night – just this. Is that okay Bean?”

_Holy hell, how did a girl reply to **that**?!_

Relief, joy and a hundred other emotions overwhelmed her into silence. Beneath it all this deep, aching yearning to press him back upon the ground and test his resolve fully. An entire night. Already having a pretty good sense of what lay beneath those damn clinging sweats, it was easy to conclude it was more than worth the wait. The hot press of his lips alone….. _god, let it be a short wait._

“It’s nice to see you haven’t lost any of that charm.” She pressed a quick kiss to the scar under his chin, before laying her head upon a strong shoulder. Tommy’s arm immediately circled tightly around. “But don’t take me home Tommy. Not yet.” 

She curled into him so small and warm and perfect he didn’t have the heart to say no despite feeling the pull of sleep. The kiss upon her brow as natural as if he had done it a hundred times before. Fighting the drowsy lure so that he could savour every moment of the quiet and stillness the night gifted. For once in his life being granted this moment to hold onto the very thing that meant so much. To hold a goodbye off for just a little longer; but knowing it was not for good.

No imitation, but the real thing, and it tasted damn good.


	14. Steps 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: angst, fluff, mentioned of domestic abuse, alcoholism, sfw

Violet hued images flickered behind his eyelids along with the slight swaying motion that lulls him away from full wakefulness. The distant hum of traffic pushed back to the corners, and the melodic chirp of crickets and buzzing of bees pulls into sharp focus beside the crisp images of the local park. His feet bare and sand covered as they pump furiously to match her rhythm to his right. Tanned legs stretched long as she tilted her body over the swing and long hair spilled down her back to drag along the dusty ground beneath. The laughter that spills easily from the wide toothed smile flashed and his heart skipped several beats as he momentarily paused to watch. 

“Come on catch up Tommy.”

A lopsided grin and rose tinted flush as he ducks his head to the task of synchronizing to the speed of the swing beside him. Feet touching the sky as they slowly fell in sync and she laughed wildly behind a hand covered mouth at his loud rendition of a bawdy army song learned from Paddy. Their gazes shyly caught for a few, brief stolen moments of freedom beneath a summer evening sky. If he could just hold this moment…

“Tommy take my hand.”

Without hesitation he reached for her small hand and wrapped it tight within his own sweat and grime covered palm. The count began, while they coasted beneath the protesting, squeaky brace of the swing set.

_Three. Two. One._

A great push and they were both soaring forward in the air; a slight pain along his arm as he held her grip tight. The patched green grass rushing upwards and they landed with a great _oooffff_ upon the ground; their sweaty bodies rolling into a giggling heap. Her eyes brightly smiling through wayward auburn curls as Tommy did a quick once over to ensure she had not been injured. His own shoulder pinched tightly and his gaze traveled down towards their hands still tightly locked. Hold this moment…..

~

Tommy shifted with a small groan in the early morning light that pried his lids open. The chill of the new day crept deep beneath the light blanket covering and settling into his bad shoulder. The weight of the head covered in tangled auburn curls adding to the pressure, though he was hesitant to wake the form snuggled intimately against his own. Her face in calm repose highlighted in the cool fiery fingers of dawn. He would have traced the light and shadows that caressed the beautiful features, had one hand not been pinned beneath his own head and the other entwined with her own upon his chest. Settling for tracing his thumb upon the cool flesh across the back of her hand. A soft sigh trembled from parted lips and a shiver coursed through her body. The world otherwise still half silent and his eyes lifted to the shadowed outline of the old swing set. Time transporting him back to the days of lingering to the very last moment before the inevitable call to come home echoed over the tree lined fields of play. Kyla stretched, mumbling in sleepy breaths against his neck; another shiver trembled and Tommy finally withdrew his hand to wrap her closer against his warmth. Warmth that was slowly easing from his own limbs. He squeezed her hand once and kissed the sun dappled brow. They couldn’t linger much longer in the chilly morn and with a begrudging side eye towards the sun still sat resolutely behind the horizon, he softly whispered her name.

~

“I swear bud that boy has worse timing than Pops.”

The clear glassy eyes shone back at Tommy from where DD sat upon his chest and he stretched his legs long in the single bed beneath the attic roof.

Alone.

Closing his eyes to the silent furred face, he narrowed his focus on returning to the brief goodbye kiss at Kyla’s door, with the rising sun igniting the dew dampened curls to flames. The soft urgency that crept beneath each parting of lips and breathless sigh. Kyla leaning back against the door as Tommy’s weight pressed against her, one hand fumbling with the key in the lock. His insides churning that the moment was ripe and he was already calculating in his mind how quickly he could carry her up those stairs, when suddenly the door yanked open and they tumbled forth into the semi dark entry. Danny smiling his gloating ass off, while Kyla spun into big sister mode and Tommy was left standing in the open doorway. A quick “thanks for seeing her home Tommy, cya on the matt maybe.” A closed door. 

The added insult of a smirking Mrs. Donnelly as he walked alone down the street, her beady eyes on him the entire way. A wink and a smile from her porch as he short-cut across her yard.

“About time you were coming back this way when the sun was rising – took ya long enough.” 

“Not like that Mrs. Donnelly, but you have a good day.” 

“I will Tommy, but don’t ya wait too much longer.” 

Cheeky old bat. He had kinda missed her. Which only reminded him of what else he had missed all those years away. What he could have been doing instead of wandering around the country looking for… whatever it was he was searching for.

A muttered curse and he licked his lips where the scent and flavor of cherry still clung. Bringing no relief to the tightness in his balls and he flopped over with another curse. It wasn’t just about seeking relief; he wanted what had been lost. Hugging the soft reminder of where he might find ease for that burning desire against his chest; until the glow of the numbers across the room finally became a blurry fade into darkness. 

~

Things had been going pretty well up until now. Almost feeling like a true father and son bonding moment, working on the old car together in the Conlon garage still stuffed with half broken and dirty remnants of their past. 

“Got in pretty late last night did ya son?”

Tommy grit his teeth and continued applying all his strength to tightening the new bolt on the old weathered Chevy’s undercarriage. Relieved his father couldn’t see the faint blush that crept up his neck from where he lay under the vehicle. Choosing to feign that he simply couldn’t hear over the steady drone of the classic rock station blaring from the stereo. The scrape of gravel and groan of discomfort declaring Paddy wasn’t about to let the matter drop so easily.

“Everything go okay?”

A muttered curse. “Pop really?”

Tommy leaned his head out from under the car. “What… you think we’re best buds here and I am gonna just blab all the details?”

Grey eyebrows lifted, “So…there’s… details then eh?” 

Tommy frowned deeply before scooting back under the car. “Unbelievable.” 

Paddy shuffled his feet back a few paces, hands waving furiously. “No, no son, course not. You know I like Kyla and I’d never ask …. Dammit Tommy I’m not talking about those details… I mean… you know…just in general like?

He stood at a loss, unsure how to manage these conversations with his son as a man, when he never even broached them while he was a boy. Tommy’s muffled retort from under the carriage slowly raising in volume.

“Jesus Pop, yer kiddin right? Next you’re gonna ask me if I like her, or do I Like Like her?”

Paddy shrugged his shoulders, no defense coming to mind, but his gaze clearing suggesting his thoughts on the matter. 

“Well hell Tommy, any fool can tell you like her…”

Tommy’s head popped back out again. “Any fool eh? Yeah? Who’s the fool here Pop? Is it me?”

Paddy breathed deep sensing yet another attempt to reach his son spiraling quickly out of control. Glancing down upon the white knuckled grip Tommy maintained on the edge of car frame, wondering where the sudden flare of temper had come from me. He met eyes blazing fire and shrugged his shoulders, silent.

“Well, guess it doesn’t matter though does it. I did do the leaving, but I reckon you’re just glad it ain’t you that’s the fool this time, right?”

Paddy’s face froze. His mouth curved down and brows followed; the shadow of sorrow deepening the lines of his face. For several moments it seemed the weepy old man he thought he left in a Vegas hotel room would resurface and Tommy’s gut clenched tightly and rolled. Shit. 

“Yeah son, I was a fool. A damn good for nothing fool and we both know you, Brendan,” his voice stuttered and cracked, “your mother – you all deserved better and I can’t do anything about what happened then. But I’m trying here Tommy, can’t ya just open up a little?”

Tommy’s face twisted as the ancient pains fired across his body. “Yeah I can see you’re trying old man, but do you really think I’m gonna take any relationship advice. And wise words of love… from you?!”

Tommy slid out from beneath the car and was on his feet in one smooth, movement that reminded Paddy of a tiger uncaged. His face contorted in blotches of red and eyes burning through the pools that gathered in the corners.

**“When did I ever feel loved?! Hey? WHEN?!”**

The wrench sailed across the room and bounced against the wall, knocking several items from the shelf with a clattering cascade upon the concrete floor. An empty fuel can kicked to another corner where it landed with a silenced thud in a pile of rags. Paddy stood tall and silent while his son’s rage slowly turned back to him.

“Tell me, what do you know about love Pop? Eh? Oh I can wrestle anyone into submission can’t I? But, what did you teach me about that?!”

Steel eyes met while the silence loomed large in the cramped space. Paddy refusing to drop his gaze, and it was Tommy’s eyes that finally dropped and flickered slowly a few times as he glanced around surveying the damage he’d caused.

“I didn’t say anything about love Tommy.”

Tommy’s jaw dropped before he quickly recovered, eyes cast to the floor as shame slowly began to wash over him.

“But you’re right, I didn’t know much about love let alone how to show it. But this…” His fingers pointed towards the fallen items before landing with a solid jab on Tommy’s chest. “This I do know. So let your old useless father give you a little advice anyway.” A hand clamped down on his shoulder and though he felt the pinch deep, he refused to give under his father’s grip. “You’d better get that under control before you go any further with the girl.”

Tommy felt the simmering rage resurface; threatening to break free at the implied comparison. The very idea he’d ever hurt Kyla pushing a ball of bile into his throat. A fast swipe of his hand and he was free from his father’s hold. “I … am .. Not…you, Pop.”

“Well good Tommy, that’s good to hear.” His father backed out of the garage and then turned on his heel striding towards the lawn. “Clean up that mess before dinner.”

Tommy spat in frustration on the dusty floor, eyes surveying the damage caused by his sudden anger. Confused and unable to explain why his temper had flared so quickly over a simple question. Standing lost in thought, his eyes lifted to the attic space where only hours ago he had lay beneath the slanted roof clutching a stuffed dog and thinking about the girl who had become a woman – an extremely desirable woman – while he’d been gone. She had a home, a job, a brother she’d practically raised who would cheerfully pummel his ass into the ground over any slight against Kyla. And what did Tommy have to offer her in return?

_Not a damn thing._

Not even a private room where he could put this rutting urge that constantly plagued him whenever her image danced behind his eyes to ease. Much less a home to build a life within. A shadow lengthened across the walls coated in years of grease and dirt and Tommy turned from the still waiting wreckage to find Finn McCool braced against the door frame. 

“Hey soldier, whatcha doing?”

Tommy leaned over and grabbed the wrench to toss upon the bench, casting a withered eye towards the scattered nuts, bolts, and the gas can still sat on its oil stained bed. He met Finn’s gaze, forced a smile.

“Not a damn thing sir.”

Finn clapped his large hands together. “Fantastic, I know a great burger joint. I’m buying… but only if you tell me what in blazes that was all about with the old man. Deal?”

Tommy briefly considered backing out – cleaning the garage now seeming the better option. The gnawing ache in his gut loudly presented its own opinion, along with the burning questions still unanswered picking apart his brain. 

“Come on son, I think it’s time you and me had us a little debriefing. Now that’s an order.”

Feeling more defeated that he had ever experienced in the ring, Tommy nodded quietly and shuffled into step behind the man already walking towards his huge truck; completely at ease in the authority he still could command. For the first time Tommy wondered why a man like Finn was so easy to follow, while a man like his father – even changed as he was – he fought at every turn.

And which sort of man was he?

~

“Cya tomorrow Conlon. Good session tonight, I think we’ve got a good start on getting you back to one hundred percent fighting form.”

“That’s great, really great. Good to hear.”

Tommy’s gaze swept over the huge hulking mass of the man Colt had set up as his physical therapist. Any disappointment he might have felt after learning the beautiful babe that was Kyla was not in fact going to be examining his body several times a week, was quickly dispelled once he had begun to asses Tommy’s injured shoulder. Mac, ironic since he was roughly the size of a truck, put him through some rigorous paces and it was the first time Tommy actually felt thoroughly spent since his pre-training for Sparta. His hand felt almost crushed in the others grip as they ended the session with a firm shake.

“Don’t do too much else tonight, alright Tommy?”

“Yeah no, just gonna do a light cool down. You really brought the heat tonight.” Tommy rubbed a hand across his drenched chest and gave a short laugh.

“Well that’s what I’m here for man. Alright, just keep it light though man. Take care.”

Tommy gave a short wave and with a slight groan lowered his body to the mat for some stretching. His body reminded him in several audible clicks and pops that he was still a long way from the peak condition of a true MMA champ. Then again, he wasn’t the champ, was he? He groaned into a leg stretch, the sound of the bell above the door announcing Mac’s departure. Colt had allowed them to stay after hours for their first session, and Tommy quite preferred the silence of the gym for a change. His mind was busy enough still after the conflict with his father, and then a few hours of listening to Finn’s opinions on their tense family matters. A talk that often felt equal parts lecture, and fatherly advice. Bent forward to stretch an aching calf muscle, the conversation replayed in his head.

“It’s all for you – ya know that don’t ya? And that brother of yours that wouldn’t let him see his own grand-kids? That’s all he wanted. What drove him every to keep trying every day.”

“Yeah well I thought he’d found God and was maybe just trying to get on his good side now, ya know? Get his sorry ass into heaven now that he’s old as dirt.”

“Ah hell son, don’t pull that sorry-woe-is-me shit with me alright? Cause I’ve heard it just about a thousand other times and I see right through your horse-shit tough guy act. So don’t sit here and tell me that you came crawling all the way back to your daddy’s house because in this whole wide of “Merica you couldn’t find no better place to lay yer goddamn head.”

Tommy grimaced and shifted to the other leg. The heat crawling up his neck into his cheeks once again that Finn had seen him so clearly.

“Ya want to fix things with your dad, ya gotta meet him at least half way Tommy. He’s trying - trying real hard and if that don’t mean something to you, well quite frankly son – ya don’t deserve to be there, I’m sorry to say.”

“Maybe I ain’t ready to forgive him just yet yeah? You know him now, but you didn’t know him then… so you don’t know him like I know him. You don’t have nothing to forget.”

“Aww fuck that; forgive, forget. Do, don’t. I’m not askin ya to forgive… Hell you can’t even forgive yourself for shit yet. Yeah I see it coiling all about yer guts like poison. I told ya son, you can’t pull nothing over me that some other punk ass kid who got a bad deal in life hasn’t already tried.”

Finn had suddenly set forward, one gnarled wrinkled hand gripping his own. “I’m just saying it is time to start listening. Ya wanna feel like this forever son? This hate, anger and guilt all rolling around inside you? How ya ever gonna move forward in life with that weighing you down? Right?”

Tommy nodded quietly, toothpick chewed intently back and forth across his mouth. Hard eyes leveled across the table. 

“How can you just sit there, when you know what he did and just… just say it like its so easy? Giving him all this praise…”

“Because a man can change Tommy. And I believe in giving credit where it’s due. Paddy may have been a no good bastard drunk, but that’s not who he is now.” Finn leaned forward, squeezed Tommy’s hand tight. “Are you still the boy who runs away Tommy? Gets out when things get tough? Can’t uphold his promises? Or are you the man who sticks – no matter how hard or messy?”

Finn reached up and yanked the toothpick free.

“I expect an answer Soldier.”

“Sir, yes sir.”

“Yes sir what.. I can’t hear you!”

Tommy straightened his slumped form and leaned towards the weather beaten face. “I’m the man who sticks.”

Finn’s face brightened into smile. “Well then, I’m glad to hear that Tommy. So show me.”

Tommy wiped a hand across his face, dragging the wetness away with the back of his hand, though he doubted Finn’s keen eyes missed his leaking emotions. Forcing himself to meet that gaze, head slowly nodding and a weight the size of Texas suddenly lifted from his shoulders. Saw the look on Finn’s face that he had sought from his father his whole life, to no avail. Until the Sparta competition. 

“Congratulations, you just took your first step. Proud of ya son.”

But it was his father’s voice of several months past saying the same words that lingered in his mind. Tommy fell back upon the mat as his eyes threatened to spill over. A deep breath that ended in a choked gasp.

“Wow, must have been some workout…. don’t think I’ve ever seen you winded.”

Tommy’s eyes flew open upon Kyla’s petite form standing over him. So lost in his thoughts he had not heard her enter as Mac exited. Hair hanging loose and curly about her glowing face and eyes shining just for him. The sudden shadow that passed when they met his own watery gaze. 

“Um, your dad told me that you were probably here, so I…. Tommy?” The uncertainty in her voice that pained his already stretched heart almost to breaking. She had gone to his house – Paddy’s house, just to find him. His heart lurched in his chest and he swallowed thickly. Her one hand reached down towards him.

_Tommy, take my hand._ His fingers grasped around hers tightly and gently pulled. A pained grimace all she needed to know his mood, as her body twisted round to face his own. Dropping slowly down to straddle his stretched legs before he could even say a word. Slender arms wrapped tight around his neck and pulled him close. 

“What is it Tommy? What’s happened?” Tommy’s head ducked into the soft column of her neck, a deep breath sucked in while he squeezed her tight. “Can you tell me?”

The muffled reply in a breath of air hot against her flesh, “Pop… just me and Pop, ya know.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Raising his head to meet her gaze and the concern he saw there sent a warm shiver through his entire body. “No, no … I did with someone earlier and I … I’ve just had enough talk today okay? Is that okay?” 

“Yeah Tommy, yeah, that’s okay.” She shifted on his lap, bare legs brushing softly against his own, and green eyes glowing softly. “Do you want me to get up?”

The raised brow gave him courage and Tommy couldn’t stop the smirk that fell into place. His grip lowered and tightened about her hips. “Well that depends. Are you gonna make me.. what was it.. kiss the mat if I don’t let you up?”

“Is it the mat you want to kiss?” Her face slowly leaned into his own, lips parted and he could almost taste the flavor in the shine.

“No, no that is definitely not what I want to kiss.”

Their mouths met in a fiery clash; open-mouthed and potently sexual as soon as they touched. He loved the way their lips fit together like two puzzle pieces. The way her body leaned in and melted into his own until there was no space between them. His hands tangled into her hair and held her tight. Kyla’s hands roving all around his body, feeling each ripple and hard ridge of muscle in his perfect physique. He felt the heat of her pressed pelvis along his thickening length, and unsure, briefly broke the kiss to gauge her reaction. Kyla immediately taking matters into her own hands, grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed her entire slight weight forward. Tommy’s arms circled tight around as he took her down to the mat still astride. A temporary loss of balance as they hit and her splayed legs land near the top of his chest; hands colliding upon the floor beside his head to break her fall. Her crotch teased just inches from his nose. 

_Fuck_ he could smell her scent over the salty sweat that penetrated everything in the gym; hands dug into her hips to pull her the last inches forward. Full lips brushing across her inner thigh and breath sweeping hot up inside the wide legs of her gym shorts to tease further. Glancing up, eyes holding the green ones that glowed with desire; the small bite against her lips flipping his insides in a heated rush. In a flash, Tommy flipped her over and pinned her arms above her head, silencing the small laugh and challenging smirk as his mouth crashed down upon her own. Her deep moans driving his lust as their tongues probed deeply; his hard dick near burst through his pants. 

“Fuck Kyla, I want you…. Jesus…”

“Tommy…. I ….” 

Her eyes darting in desperation around the wide open space. The glow of the parking lot lights gleaming off the various equipment. The unlocked door. Hell he can’t take her – not Kyla – here on the mat covered in sweat and spit and blood. But he couldn’t stop kissing her either. Because no matter where life had taken him, nothing had ever looked, smelled or tasted as good as Kyla. And they’d lost too many years already. His breath caught as he stared down into her flushed face. Waiting….

“Oh my god Conlon, take me the fuck home now.”

His face split into a wide grin. “Yes, ma’am… I will do that.”

He pulled her up to standing, unable to resist another deep kiss before her hands pushed playfully against his chest and she stepped away.

“Last one to the car…” Her sudden dash had only gained a few steps before her words halted in a surprised scream as she was swooped up over a massive shoulder. Those hard as granite traps smooshed against her cheek.

“Oh no, no running for you remember? You’re gonna want to save that energy Bean.”

Hell, she felt barely heavier than the four army sandbags he used to carry, and as he easily managed both gym and car door before tossing her into the passenger side, his mind was already calculating just how many positions he could maneuver her into.


	15. Long Time Coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: buckle up, Tommy Conlon did say he’d need all night and I’ve held him to his promise; he’s all a Man of His Word. All the NSFW abort wee ones back to the kiddy ball pool…. Tommy has entered the ring ;)

Her skin is a soft amber glow under the streetlights as the car speeds past. Warm beneath the rough pads of Tommy’s fingertips trailing lightly along the flesh, caressing the tightening muscles and the car jumps forward. Another yellow run and the brief flicker of red swirls with the bright green of her eyes. His own gaze wild and dark; this loving one another with their eyes until the moment their bodies can join an invisible thread that pulled them closer. The breeze from the cracked window cools his sweat drenched body, though adrenaline keeps his heart pumping fast. A fingertip traced along the edge of her gym shorts; her deep breath inhaled sharply in time with the rev of the engine. Kyla took the corner fast, one wheel grazing the curb edge with a hissing scrape that matches the sound of the air sucked between her teeth as Tommy’s fingers pressed the skin so near her centre. Slowing down she stole another glance. He doesn’t smile, but the deep need etched in the lines of his face tells her so much more. A gaze that breathes fire inside her soul and ignites every nerve in a blaze of anticipation.

There’s something about his touch that lights her up from the inside. Breathing in the wild, musky scent of him; the almost feral beauty that was hers to touch, melting away resistance and years. Her thighs part slightly, these damn shorts a hindrance towards easing the deep, yearning ache he’s inflicted. The warmth of his palm sears the tender flesh and she can’t halt the flashing images of what it might feel like to just fuck him in the car. Once started down that road, all she can imagine is Tommy entering her again and again until her body is so drenched in his scent that it lingers for hours. A moan escapes as his hand grazes a silky fringe and his groaned curse tells his own frustration.

“Fuck I can’t wait to get my hands all over you.”

“Jesus Tommy I’m gonna crash the damn car.”

“We could pull over…”

Her head swiveled fast towards him. Of course he could read her mind. The air in the car saturated with need. The blood rushing in her ears and drowning out the sounds of traffic and thank god there wasn’t much because if his finger continued past the elastic band she truly feared for their safety. 

“Close… we’re close.”

The deep husky tone of the panted words finally bringing a smile to Tommy’s face. His hand withdrew, adjusting the hard thickness in his own shorts before he leaned back, gaze sending a silent challenge. The glow of red illuminated the interior as the car slowly came to a stop. Her brow quirked as her eyes pointedly dipped low. Tommy smirked and adjusted the fullness again.

“Well that’s good Bean because judging by this ….”

“Let me see it.”

Eyes widened by the sudden outburst. “What… now?”

“Yeah, now. I wanna see it.”

“Right now… here, you wanna see it?”

She held his surprised gaze, licked her lips and gave a slight shrug.

“Is that a dare Bean?”

“Lights gonna change Tommy.”

His hand was already down his pants and tugging the band of underwear low; cock springing upright hard and bold in the garish glow. Her eyes shining almost reverent as one hand slowly edged closer and Tommy held his breath for the moment of contact. The slight brush across the silky head that had him gritting his teeth and clenching the door handle. An inquisitive stroke down the full length and she breathed in hushed awe

“Oh my god Tommy, I can’t wait. It feels like forever that I’ve wanted this.”

Tommy only moaned in reply as her fingers tentatively explored along the ridges and bulging veins. 

“Fuck Ky, just get us …..”

The sudden blare of the horn behind them and her entire fist squeezed tight around his swollen length. Tommy bite down hard as he felt the surge of heat flow around her palm. She suddenly pulled back as they both glanced upward into the bright green glare on the windshield, the car behind giving another short blast. Tommy glanced over his shoulder, cock still at full mast, and gave a brief wave. Eyes meeting as their laughter spilled and Kyla burst the car through the intersection, charging fast down the last miles home.

~

The street lamps glow softly on the newly wet pavement as Kyla kneels upon the window seat of her bay window; transfixed by the bright shine of her own eyes in the blurred reflection. A finger traced a raindrop down the pane that suddenly turns to a bead of sweat run recklessly over fine toned abs. Palm flattened against the cold pane, but her mind recalls the warmth of taut muscles when Tommy withdrew his still damp shirt before heading into her en-suite. The burst of the shower mingles with the light pattern of rain as it hits the glass and she tried to settle the tightening coils in her stomach. The nerves that hit the moment they crossed the threshold to her bedroom. Tommy’s mouth had barely left her own as they charged up the stairs and now that she’s had a moment to slow down and draw a breath… the fears that it’s all happening too fast threaten to drown the need. Sensing her hesitation, he’d slowed down the pace by heading for a shower.

Now he sauntered forward from the bathroom, a plush towel slung low on his hips and a cloud of rising steam behind him. The same intense gaze as if he was once again entering the cage. Whether he was intent on winning her submission, or simply wanted to devour her whole, her head spun under that warrior glare.

_Oh god, please don’t let it go too fast._

His steps were so sure and here she was rooted with indecision; though her stomach was doing the most incredible flips and her eyes could not leave the evident bulge beneath the towel. Her mouth hung slack and hands dangled useless at her sides; feeling suddenly like she was twelve years old and straddled upon his young form — not having a clue of how to proceed only that she needed to silence this screaming need within. It didn’t matter though; Tommy’s eyes were locked on target and his mouth soon followed. Any weak protests were swallowed under the sweet, soft force of those lips. Barely breaking free as he hooked a finger in the waistband of her shorts and slowly pulled her back towards the bathroom. Until she was standing still surrounded by steam and the hot press of his body against her own. Strong hands molding her close while his mouth was hot demand everywhere. Whether it was nerves easing, or simply the overpowering masculine energy that was Tommy, she remained pliant under his skillful seduction. Except she was kinda a sure thing. Well, after about fifteen years of waiting, so she couldn’t exactly be called easy…

_Oh my god girl you need to silence this brain of yours!_

The command was easily obeyed as Tommy hands lifted her shirt over her head and just as the neckline cleared her face, her line of sight caught the fall of his towel to the floor. His palms lightly kneaded her pert breasts but her gaze was fixed on the boldly rising cock between them. Nerves shattering when the warmth of his hands briefly left her body to give a few tugs until it was standing boldly erect between them. Thick and long and of course his dick was as beautiful as the rest of him. Desire finally surging her to action as she reached a hand to grasp him hot and hard, before realizing her bottoms are halfway tugged down her thighs and Tommy is pressing hot kisses on her lower tummy. His stubble covered chin grazing the neatly sculpted bush between her thighs. Instinct prompting, she pressed her hips forward and the warm air chuckled against her skin, his eyes lifting to cast a slow, saucy wink. Suddenly she was lifted high against his chest, clutching the strong shoulders with a squeal of surprise, as Tommy stepped easily into the shower.

The shock of cool tile upon her back contrasts with the rush of hot water across her upper body. His mouth branding her in fiery kisses that turned her insides to molten liquid. The feel of him, the hot flush that marked his flesh and the burning desire in his gaze giving her a heady sense of power. Her fingers pressed deeper into the solid expanse of the trap muscles, like gripping a rock ledge and she moaned deep as his mouth fastened on a pointed nipple. One hand reached to caress the dampened curls between her thighs. 

“Oh god, Tommy.”

A loud groan and Tommy lifted her another few inches higher on his chest, words breathed over the cascade of liquid heat upon her sensitive skin. 

“Hold on Ky… fuck I need to taste you babe.”

His mouth brushed along the delicate folds. Teasing them softly and Kyla bucked against the wall; his grip tightening as strong arms guided her legs over his shoulders. Though his mouth alone could have pinned her in place. Tongue slowly teased her open; dipping in slow, sensuous swirls until she was a tightly coiled spring about to burst. The hot water rushing with a tingling burn that heightened the tightening in her belly and keeping her just at the edge of tripping over. Until that sexy plump upper lip began delicately nibbling over her sensitive bud. Pulling it between the warm softness of his pressed lips, then drawing back so his tongue could flick across its swollen peak. The sensations driving her wild as she squeezed her trembling legs and arched her back into the pleasure. His hands caressed along the tensed thighs and calves, then gripped toned cheeks to pull her pelvis closer. The hot press of his tongue probing deep inside as he continued the nimble assault on her clit. It only took a few seconds before her head tipped back onto the tiled wall and desperate pleas dropped from her mouth as wave after wave of the most intense, blinding pleasure overtook every cell of her body. Tommy held her fast, alternating his lips in gentle sucks and kisses to guide her through the orgasm and gently down again. Panting harshly her head finally raised and caught his heated glance from where his chin rested against her inner thigh.

“Holy shit Conlon. I’m really mad you stayed away so long now.”

He chuckled and pressed a kiss against the tender flesh. Nuzzled his face against the wet curls that sent raised shivers along her body. The water already beginning to cool.

“But we’ve barely even started Ky… you’ll forgive me by morning. I promise.”

Slowly he eased her down his slick body until she was straddled around his lean torso. His dick having lost most of its hardness while he brought her to climax, but still pressing hot and wanting between them. Kyla kissed him hard, breathing the question upon his lips.

“Truth?”

Tommy nodded between kisses. Inhaled deep when her wet pussy dragged against his hot length; fingers dug deep into the curve of her hips to aid the roll of her pelvis as the hot blood surged along his cock again.

“Already forgive you Tommy.”

Barely recognizing the growl as his own, he flicked the shower off with one brush of a hand; still holding Kyla wet and shivering against him. Her legs wrapped tightly about his waist and if she didn’t stop pressing herself along his engorged tip, he was going to plunge inside and fuck her senseless in the middle of the bathroom floor. Which did strike him as a pretty fucking hot idea, but maybe not in the first round. His heart was thudding against his chest and damn near threatened to burst with each gaze they shared. He had a feeling it wasn’t just because he was about as horny as he’d ever been his entire life. This was something different. It was Kyla… and for the first time he wanted to take his time and savour every minute. As if she sensed his emotions, her body pressed down and he felt the hot, wet, tightness around the head. _Fuck… he wanted to savour every inch of her._

A faint cry broke free while she flew through the air and bounced lightly upon the bed. Quickly changing to breathless moans of _Tommy..please_ … as he slowly crawled up her body, pressing light kisses and gentle bites everywhere. Her fingers pulled in his hair, silently urging him onward. God she was beautiful; all softness and curves against his hard lines. Body perfectly fitting beneath his own form as he covered her. Sure he could explore all the ways he could pull pleasure from her for days on end. 

She came so hard and fast in the shower and by the wiggling movement beneath him, he can sense the restlessness of another climax building. This time he sought a slower pace, a moment of pause and lingering gaze while he held back just at her entry. His hands stroked her hair and kissed the swollen lips like she’s the very air he needs to breathe. One hand reached to grasp her own, her name a whispered treasure in the dark, and he made sure he captured her eyes while easing inside in a slow gliding motion. It didn’t matter the tempo, nothing had prepared them for the pure bliss of being joined. Tommy’s girth stretching her open like never before. The tight, fullness that surrounded him a coming home he never knew he wanted. A frantic urge building, but he clamped his restraint and studied her reaction with each movement. Taking his time until her eyes widened and jaw dropped as he hits the right spot and then Tommy found the stroking rhythm that carried her through several positions and orgasms. Hitting every angle until she lay shaking and breathless beneath him. Kyla in the throes of an intense climax had to be the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and the fact it was him, hit like a KO punch on the last one. He pulled her astride and groaned his own release into the curve of her neck, holding each other tight while his entire body shook with an even greater intensity than when he had imagined. He kissed her neck, her face, the hardened nipple of each breast before collapsing back upon the bed, coiled around one another.

“Never took ya for a moaner Conlon.”

He laughed lightly beside her. A small pinch on the round cheek closest to him that brought a gasp and a light smack against his check. Before they turned once more and kissed long and slow. Tommy suddenly pulled away.

“Shit… I’m sorry Ky, I didn’t think about Danny being home.”

“Don’t worry Tommy. He’s away with friends to watch that fight tournament this weekend.”

Tommy raised up on an elbow. “The cage match in Atlantic City?”

Kyla nodded in the dark, snuggled closer.

“So ah, the whole weekend then, right?”

Her muted laugh against his chest and then she looked up and kissed his chin. 

“Yes Conlon, you have me at your lustful will the entire weekend. Though I might have to pace you after that round… you are a damn machine.”

Her small teeth nipped him lightly and Tommy pulled her atop, breathed in the still damp hair that hung about them. 

“You seemed to keep up just fine Ky.” 

His cock already growing thick against the press of her pelvis. He could feel the sticky wet of their first coupling still on her thighs and it was making him horny as fuck. He was already dying to be inside her again. Watch her eyelids flutter this time as he drove her to the peak of passion again. She slide down his chest and flicked a nipple with her tongue. The purring moan deep in his chest an encouraging response and she drew it into her warm mouth and blew hot air across. Tommy’s hands gripped her hips and dragged her back to his mouth. Emotions overcoming, she pulled briefly away.

“Well I’m very glad I’ve kept up my yoga practice, or I’d be a twisted pretzel right now I’m sure. I don’t even know how you did that side move but omg Tommy… it’s never felt ….”

Tommy interrupted, and she could see the smirk and arched brow even in the low lit room. “Yoga? So you’re all like, bendy and shit then?”

She nodded slowly.

“Like handstands and leg behind your head kinda stuff?”

She knew it was coming before the word left his lips.

“You don’t have to dare me Tommy. You wanna have some yoga sex?”

“Hell yes I do.”

He already felt the gentle whisper of her skin leaving his own, the soft pad of feet across the floor and then the vanity table light switched on; its muted sheen filling the space. Her naked skin glowing like a dream as she glided to the foot of the bed and taking a deep breath stretched her arms high over her head. Breasts lifted high and Tommy’s breath caught as she slowly descended backwards to the floor; back in a deep arch and giving him the most glorious view of her sweet little pussy. His mouth watered and cock bucked, but he didn’t touch himself since the sight alone nearly had him busting all over the crumpled sheets before he could even get his hands on her. She walked a few paces forward and turned to a side angle, all lean muscles and feminine curves; her upside down face giving him a saucy smile. He didn’t even remember leaving the bed, but he was sure he would never forget if he lived a thousand years the utter fucking pleasure of sliding his cock in deep and thrusting in a wild pace while her breasts bounced before his eyes. The slender column of her throat gleaming and vibrating while she moaned loudly. His own groans tore from his throat as he bent double over her curved tummy pumping hard and fast.

“Jesus Ky, how long can you hold this?”

But she was mute under the incredible sensations rocketing through her body with each thrust. Caught in the grips of an intense orgasm could barely moan his name. Tommy braced his feet wider and lifted her, easing some of the burden from her shaking arms, thrusting deep and hard until he felt her legs trembling and one hand began an erratic tapping upon his lower leg. Hell, she’d tapped out - he felt like a God. In one motion he raised her up to straddle his pelvis. One part of his brain registering the amazing core strength she had to come up from that position, but most of his attention diverted to holding her hips tight and bouncing her upon his pulsing cock as he let himself go in several violent shudders. Ending with them both panting for air and pacing the floor with her cocooned about his sweating form until he fell upon the edge of the bed and pulled her close. Hands stroking lightly up and down her back until the soft murmurs against his skin grew silent. 

~

Kyla awoke in the night nestled against his warmth in the bed, not even remembering how they came to be there after that last intense round. Turning over to find he’s already awake and reaching for her when her mouth finds his in the dark. A slow and sensual discovery that ends with her on top and Tommy softening inside as they both drift off once more just as dawn breaks through the lace curtains. 

The last thing he remembers as he breathed against her temple _my god Ky_ , is the press of their fingers clasped and the curve of her smile above the steady beat of his heart. 

~

Things always seem different in the early morning light, and as the realization hit him fully of what had transpired the night before - several times during the night in fact - Tommy’s restless worry pulled him from the comfort of Kyla’s bed. A lingering glance at her curled naked form as the thoughts bounced around his head, because shit just happened … and with Kyla. There was no going back to swing sets and cherry popsicles now. Except he can still taste it on his lips. And her.

So it was that Kyla woke up to pretty much the best damn eyeful of male perfection, with Tommy doing pushups naked on her bedroom floor. Muscles rippling beneath the prying sun’s rays. The whole of him looking like a damn Greek marble statue come to life. And that ass… god damn, did she bite it last night? Her cheeks infused with colour and she gave a nervous clearing of throat. Tommy paused briefly in mid push and then slowly lowering to the floor, eyes fixed firmly on the shine of the wood. Kyla expected there might be some morning awkwardness, but already feeling the heat infuse her body and the wetness between her legs, decided it’s best to just get on with it. Or more to the point, get it on as quick as possible before it becomes A Thing. As she walked around the bed, she noted Tommy switched to sit ups, which would give him a perfect view of her sitting legs spread upon the window seat. Sure enough, next time he lifted he was greeted with the vision of dewy pink lips over the edge of his knees. Pausing he glanced up and caught the wink she cast. Fuck me but she was no gun shy teen anymore, and he was absolutely thrilled about the discovery. He scratched his chin, while he considered how far she might be willing to go. 

“Handstands you said, right?”

He knew his tone was cocky as hell, but that quickly fled as he watched her slowly transition from seating spread eagle and up into the handstand. The morning light surrounding and turning her into some kind of inverted angel. It was the hottest fucking thing he’d ever seen. Her mouth curved into a smile.

“Morning Tommy. Remember when you laughed at me because I didn’t know what sixty nine meant?”

He couldn’t remember the last time a girl made his jaw drop, and twice in one day was something else. Still he wasted no time hauling ass and hard as a rock dick over to stand before her upside down face. Praying as his palms gripped her ankles to give support, and his cock disappeared into the hot, smooth wetness of her mouth that Mrs. Donnelly wouldn’t choose this moment to come sit on her porch for a morning brew. The sight of Kyla’s naked ass pressed against the window glass, and his mouth devouring her hot and soaked little cunt might just send the old gal into shock. Never mind the incredible oral action she was managing down below damn near bringing him to his own knees in a dizzying faint of his own. His recent bouts of being plagued by morning wood was most pleasurably solved. She sucked and moaned him deep until he was wrung dry and thighs burning to remain upright. Damn she was a trooper. The true match to his own raging libido that he’d always been seeking, and he knew in the back of his mind all the emotions concerning that would flood him later. As he watched her flushed face resting upon his thigh slowly return to normal, his confidence as a fierce lover was never in question. Getting lost in the green gaze that wouldn’t let him go, and the easy comfort of the one hand that reached up to caress his jaw. With all these new feelings squeezing his heart, brushing the sweat dampened curls from her brow, Tommy knew what she truly deserved was to be loved fiercely. Swallowing hard as he watched the rise and fall of her chest, he only hoped he was as equal to that task.

It was several minutes later that Kyla came out of the bathroom to find the bedroom empty. Still slightly shaking and smiling ear to ear. Only marred by the slight grimace induced by a wicked case of sex limp, she spotted his clothes where they had been tossed the night before. Wrapping her robe securely in place, while entertaining thoughts of him naked and cooking breakfast in her kitchen… and it would not be the first time she had pondered that idea. Except now She Knew. She’d always had trouble cumming in the past. So much so that it had eventually turned her away from seeking sexual partners. Now, enter Tommy Conlon, Sex God. Her smile only grew as she took the stairs at a slight jog, following the sounds coming from the kitchen. Wondering if the proper way to thank a naked man for breakfast was to fuck him on the kitchen counter. She bite her lip in anticipation and rounded the corner, brow furrowing as the sound of voices finally registers.

“What the fuck?”

“The fuck happened to you?”

The sight of Tommy naked, except the far too small tea towel held crookedly in front of his huge bulge and a frying pan in other hand, might have been the epitome of every woman’s wish fulfillment. 

However, the sight of her little brother Danny standing across from him angry, bruised and bloodied all to hell was her worst nightmare come true.


	16. Nothing Changes if Nothing Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy is going to take care of everyone and y'all --- SWOON.

Three people stood unmoving as the faucet dripped into the sink. Each drop a reverberating cymbal that rippled through the heavy silence within the bright, airy kitchen. Slowly the _ping ping_ counted out the death of a fragile peace pact before it ever began. Kyla’s eyes filled with pain as they inspected the battered face of the one she had spent half a lifetime protecting from harm, then flickered with confusion towards the man she had dreamed of spending a lifetime together. Standing, unfazed with a dirty, thread bare towel in front his manly assets. Flashes of the previous night mingled with the awkward tension as she felt the hot flush creep over her skin. Gaze drawn back to linger on a busted lip and blackened eye and it’s a pull of another kind in her abdomen as her mind struggled to compute what had transpired before her arrival. She read the question in Danny’s eyes and felt his silent accusations. It must have been a shock to find Tommy Conlon naked in his kitchen so early in the morning. Almost as much as her own shock of finding her brother home early and beat to hell. Her gaze swung back to Tommy to find his eyes resting only on her, lips compressed in a tight line.

“Tommy… what the hell is going on? What did you…”

Tommy’s gaze narrowed further as he moved to cross thick arms across his chest before remembering the towel and lowered them again.

“What the hell is going on? You…. you think I had something to do with this?” A finger jabbed in Danny’s direction and he noted the young man did not exactly leap to his defense. 

Kyla finally finding her feet stepped towards her brother, placing herself between the two men, her hands carefully touching the wounds as she searched his face with a worried knit upon her brow. Danny’s own brows glared over her shoulder and she braced for further heated confrontation. All that came was the sound of the freezer door opening and closing, her eyes avoiding Danny’s knowing a toned, bare ass was likely in his sight line. Then a soft rustling and the pad of Tommy’s bare feet as he crossed the space and grabbed Danny by the wrist. Pointedly ignoring Kyla’s harsh no Tommy as he placed a bag of frozen peas in his hand. 

“Get it on that eye before it completely swells shut kid.” Danny did as was instructed and stood quietly while Tommy gave a quick once over of various injuries, then snorted loudly. “Well, I think y’all live sport. Do I wanna see the other guy (a reproaching glare towards Kyla) Danny?”

Danny mumbled around a split lip still crusted in dried blood. “Guys.”

Tommy’s head swiveled towards Kyla who now stood with jaw hanging; but still silent. “Well, how about that.” Turning back to Danny, “Any other injuries I should know about… no weapons used or anything like that?”

Danny’s head shook mutely, until Tommy stood hunched before him, his gaze telling him silence was not an option.

“No, nothing like that. Just fists and a whole lot of hate.” He noted the bitter anger in the young man’s tone rather than any hint of fear. Tommy bit his lower lip and nodded, waiting. “Some kicks to my side when I dropped, but I think I’m okay; just some bruising.”

Kyla’s breath inhaled sharply and Danny couldn’t bring himself to look at her knowing those jade orbs were filling with tears. He focused on the unlikely caretaker in front of him, his hopes pinned on a fellow fighter like Tommy understanding this seemingly crazy idea he’d got in his head. 

“So we gonna talk about this, huh? Kyla said you went to watch the fight?”

Tommy let the question hang in the air a few moments, watching the boy shift nervously from foot to foot; avoiding either gaze. Kyla’s breath held next to him, but Tommy still feeling the sting of her doubt focused on the boy.

“Danny… did you fight? Is that why you were there?” The silence and drip, drip, drip continued. “Come on man, give me something… at least so your sister here can wipe my name off her shit list.”

“Tommy… wait.. I…”

“Really Kyla? After everything? You think I’m capable of something like this?” His imposing figure leaned close, noting how her hands suddenly twisted in the folds of her wrap. “Apple… tree maybe, is that what you’re thinkin?”

Washed in guilt for the interruption to what had clearly begun as a romantic morning, Danny finally spoke.

“Kyla, I’m sorry. It’s got nothing to do with him. I did go to the tournament to fight… but it was just one match I swear.”

“What the hell Danny, what you were thinking? Those men are professionals, you could have been seriously injured. Even kil….” Her voice broke and she turned away, leaning over the sink and twisting the faucet handles tight. The sudden silence descending over the room sending her thoughts tumbling loudly in her ears. She twisted the taps further; anything to focus her fear and anger upon, instead of on her little brother. Glaring over her shoulder at Tommy who suddenly chuckled aloud.

“Geez man, you’re lucky it’s not worse. Gotta hand it to you getting in the cage though bro.”

Kyla turned around, “I don’t need you encouraging him, Jesus look at him.” Her emotions threatened to boil over again.

“He’s not a little boy Ky, he’s a grown man now. He can make up his own mind about wanting to fight.” Tommy turned back to Danny who stood blinking in surprise that Tommy defended his actions. “But ya shouldn’t have lied to her, not cool man. You wanna fight, that’s your business, but ya got no business lying to the person who done all the taking care of ya and worrying all these years, ya got me? Do that shit again and I will personally beat your ass - understood?”

Danny moved the frozen bag to the other side of his face, wiping a damp hand upon his track pants, before nodding silently. Still unable to bring himself to meet his sister’s eyes.

“Good, we’re all clear then.” Tommy gave a crooked smile and punched him lightly on the arm. “So what happened then champ, how many rounds ya go?”

Danny’s cheeks flushed red and he briefly glanced at Kyla and then the floor while Tommy teased a chorus of various trash talk. The bag suddenly tossed to hit Tommy square in the chest.

“Jesus, gimme a break Tommy…. and dude I ain’t talking no more until you get some threads on.”

Kyla hadn’t exactly forgotten the fact that Tommy was naked, his modesty barely preserved by the towel as the conversation continued, but now all that had transpired the night before collided with a resounding crash in her mind with the momentary doubt she had held concerning any lurking violence within him. The hurt and angry look he tossed back at her as he exited the kitchen, tossing the tea towel back to land at her feet, suggested Tommy likely had some colliding thoughts of his own. Danny turned away from the bare rippling muscles as Tommy ascended the stairs, to finally look at his sister – noting her own gaze firmly fixed in the other direction.

“So, I have some questions too.” 

Kyla bent to retrieve the towel from the floor and neatly hung it back on the rack. Sighing she lay a hand tenderly upon the black and blue of his cheek.

“First, are you okay?”

Danny nodded, a sheepish rose tint infusing the cheeks around the various marks and bruises. “Yeah, he’s right, I’ll live. It was pretty stupid though, I was not ready for that at all.” He winced in pain through the smile and Kyla lifted her arms to hug him tight, before stepping back, eyes still misty and threatening to spill.

“Good, but we will talk about it later, for now why don’t you go rest in the living room, and I’ll go change and then make us all something to eat, okay?”

Arm in arm they left the kitchen until Danny, after another brief hug and whispered sorry, headed to flop on the couch, remote already in hand before Kyla had taken the first step. He looked up briefly from switching channels to find her with on foot on the bottom step, eyes raised to the second floor.

“Ya better say sorry too sis. He didn’t have to take my side.”

Taking a deep breath and chewing her lip with worry as she mounted the stairs; feeling the sudden weight of each step taken. Her feet heavy with the burdens of so many years of being responsible and capable of caring for another, and now a crippling self-doubt crept in to join the other voices in her head. When she finally had Tommy back in her life and a real chance at living her own dreams; the terrifying truth after all this time was that she didn’t deserve him.

 

**KYLA**

Tears were already running a silent rivulet down her cheeks as she opened the door to her bedroom to find Tommy fully dressed and sitting upon the edge of the bed. Legs spread wide and his elbows resting on his knees – but it was the wrinkled brow and flexing jaw muscle that sent a shot straight to her heart. Behind him, the sheets still tossed and rumpled from their night long erotic pursuits. She stepped over clothing that lay where hastily discarded, while shame and desire both ran hot through her veins. Until she met his cold, hard gaze and her stomach took a sickening lurch.

“Tommy, I don’t know what to say…”

The same one word question fired back; the crack of emotion in his voice threatening to break her in two.

“Really?” 

He flung the bed sheets back.

“After this?”

A memory flashed behind blurred vision. Tommy being so gentle and loving, while also nearly fucking the very life from her as he maneuvered them into various positions. A fierce and tender lover; moving between the two sides easily and not once did she have a moment of fear. Just complete bliss like she’d never experienced before. How could she doubt him? Just as quickly images from the Sparta match flickered – Tommy stalking from the ring without a backward glance at the damage he had inflicted. A lover and a fighter existed within this man who sat with all the wounded eyes of a child, waiting for some kind of explanation. Wounded child. The past came rushing back. Danny held in her arms, eyes wide with fear at an unfolding horror. The sounds of shots echoed in the present and Kyla flinched while the tears began a steady stream. Tommy’s face softened – he knew the look of past trauma revisited.

“I just get … I get a bit protective mama bear when it comes to him Tommy. Seeing him like that… when I try so hard to keep him safe. Keep him on the right path towards a future.” Her voice cracked and Tommy fought against the lump in his own throat. “For so long… and when I fail it just makes me crazy. I’m so sorry Tommy.”

“You didn’t fail him Ky, he made his own bed. It was his choice – not a very smart one, but you can’t protect him from everything and especially not if he wants to fight. He’s not a boy anymore.”

Kyla nodded silently and Tommy had to give her all the credit in the world that she continued to hold his gaze. 

“You really think I could do that? To Danny? Danny who followed around at my heels when we were kids? Danny who sat between us on the couch while we watched movies and ate all the popcorn?”

“Tommy I had to step between the two of you in the ring that day.”

“Shit Ky, that’s the ring. You step in the ring knowing you’ll get hit, this isn’t the same at all.”

She may have held his gaze, but her voice dropped to barely a whisper, “I saw how you are in the ring. Like someone uncaged a tiger and then you’d just walk away, like you didn’t care how much pain or injury you inflicted. And no – I don’t understand that Tommy. I don’t understand how a man who saw the violence you did as a boy can inflict the same on someone else for sport. But, I was worried for you every single fight still. Could barely watch.” 

The lines of Tommy’s face had hardened so that she couldn’t read his thoughts any longer. His face contorted into a mask of both anger and hurt while he chewed his lip furiously. 

“I’m sorry for saying this because I know it’s gotta hurt, but your dad still scares me Tommy. I can still hear his voice raised from half way down the street and I can’t believe you don’t still hear it too. And I’ve never been afraid of you – not once ever, and not even now as angry as I know you have to be with me. It’s just… some things never change Tommy.”

She took a hesitant step forward through the haze of brimming eyes. 

“It’s not what I think of you Tommy… it’s what I _fear_ for you. Becoming the very thing you hate. You can’t lie to me, not now – I can feel it simmering inside you.” 

Her body began to tremble, hands fisted at her own sides as she glanced around the bedroom. “Last night was amazing. Everything I had always dreamed, and was too scared to hope for, but it also feels too good to be true and now I’m scared that maybe you’ll realize you were right to leave. That there’s nothing here…maybe that part has changed too much.”

Tommy was off the bed in half a second, _ssshhing_ sounds over the deep hiccups wracking her body. Reaching for hands that tried to push him away until only by his greater strength and calming words was he able to pull her close. Her body trembling though he held her so tight, sensing it was now that she was finally allowing herself to unravel. Hoping it was because she knew deep down he would catch her. Finn’s words regarding soldier’s and a thing called post traumatic stress disorder came back to him, and he realized though they had taken a huge step towards their future, their steps were still very much shadowed by events of the past. 

“I’m not going anywhere Ky. I told you that and you’re just gonna have to get used to the fact you’re stuck with a guy like me. Cause we’re gonna get through this, you and me. Right? That’s how things change, ya know?”

The moment of surrender as she melted into his strength, her face pressed against the thickness of his neck and fists balled into his shirt like she never wanted to let go, was almost better then how she gave herself to him last night. He needed her belief and trust like air. He wanted to be the man she needed him to be, and with that any lingering hurt or vanity melted away. This was about her now.

He pressed his lips to hers and felt his heart thunder madly when she willingly opened without hesitation. A soft ghosting that quickly became desperate need; his hands gripping the edges of her shirt tightly. Slowly easing it up over and her head and Kyla clutched at his own to do the same.

“No… not that Ky.” He pulled the shirt over her head and taking a hand lead her towards the bed. “Lie down. On your stomach.”

The mood had shifted so swiftly from their first fight only moments ago, to this maddening urge to have his hands all over her. Crawling up the bed she could see Tommy entering the bathroom from the corner of her eye. Confused she listened to rummaging sounds and then he emerged and crossed to close the drapes. Darkness filled the room just before the edge of the bed dipped beneath his weight and his voice came deep and husky.

“All these years Ky, I’m so fuckin proud of how you took care of Danny. You’re amazing.” His hands smoothed her hair from her neck and the light kiss he pressed sent shivers all over her half naked body. A soft moan as she hugged a pillow tightly. “But who took care of you, huh?”

Her voice small and muffled in the pillows and threatening to tear his heart in two. “No one. Only me.”

His weight shifted and she could hear the sound of his hands rubbing together, and then the blissful warmth that massaged down the length of her back. His touch gentle but firmly easing across aching muscles and stressed limbs. Another kiss pressed into the dip right above her buttocks and the whispered caress.

“Not anymore Ky. I’m gonna take care of you.” His weight pressed forward, knees pushed against her sides and his voice came low beside her ear. “Both of you.”

Soon she was dissolving into a state of pure relaxation not felt in years; even as hot tears slipped quietly onto the cool cotton. His hands working magic on every knot and tension filled muscle just as easily as he had wrung pleasure from her in so many ways. In tune with every cell in her body; knowing when to be gentle and when to apply firm pressure. Knowing she needed this quiet, affirmation more than any words, or promises he could utter. Within minutes Tommy felt the rhythm of her breathing change to deep slumber. He massaged in light circles for a few minutes more, then carefully pulled the covers over her sleeping form. A kiss upon her brow and he was quietly shutting the door before Kyla ever knew he was gone. 

 

**DANNY**

“So this where it happened?”

Danny’s eyes remained focus on whatever program flashed across the screen, but Tommy noted the slight squint before the shrug of shoulders. His own memories of gunfire and firefights flitting at the edges of his mind, and he tried to imagine how the scene witnessed by a boy too young, might replay for the growing man. Leaning against the wall, he saw the tense lines in the muted blue glow and knew the boy was struggling to keep control in his presence.

“Yeah, I know how shit can linger. Still wake up thinking I’m in a gun fight most nights… all sweating and wondering where the fuck I am.”

Danny’s eyes briefly flicked to meet his own and then blankly back at the TV.

“Expecting you might know about something like that and you know, if you want to talk about it sometime, we can. Maybe while we train?”

A snort sounded loudly before he finally met Tommy’s gaze. “You wanna train me? Why for.”

Tommy crossed the room, feeling a brief moment of guilt as he immediately shrunk back into the couch cushions. _Damn, was everyone afraid of him?_

“Well I could say it’s because I see some promise in you as a fighter, but mostly I don’t want to see you get your ass kicked again,” He sat on the couch beside and tapped a punch lightly against a shoulder, “so that Kyla kicks my ass in turn.”

Danny’s eyes narrowed briefly, and then he snorted again before the sarcasm dripped easily, “Har har har, you’re hilarious.”

The two men held silent gazes before Danny leaned back and sighed deeply.

“But you’re not wrong either. Once she’s over feeling sorry for me, she’s gonna kick my ass herself. I’ll be lucky if she lets me go anywhere.”

Tommy chuckled. “Maybe. It hurts her to see you hurt though, you get that right? So maybe I can help you, work with you a little so you don’t come home all bloodied and shit next time?”

He sensed the easing of tension beside him, the calmness that came after the adrenaline of the ring. “Yeah, I suppose that would be cool.”

“Hell yeah, maybe you’ll even win the next one right?”

“Oh yeah, how? Ya gonna call your brother in to show me a few things too.”

Tommy bit his lip and groaned, a little more respect gained though he still felt the sting of that defeat. “Ha, oh you’re hilarious too.”

He clamped a hand down on a leg and squeezed - just enough to bring a gasp and let the kid know who was boss, before rising to make his exit. 

“But seriously kid, if you need to talk to, you know… I can do that too okay? Help your sister out with some things around here and maybe she will worry less. Neither of us want to see her hurting, right? We can at least agree on that.”

Danny gave a silent nod, and tossed up some kind of hand sign Tommy had been absent too long to know. Rolling his eyes and hardly believing the silent kids today muttered in his head.

“Alight good then. I’m gonna go check on my old man. Ky’s sleeping, but if she wakes up tell her I’ll be back later.”

The resilience of youth and the sounds of rap had already claimed Danny’s attention once more, and thus it was a kind of rolling, bobbing nod that Tommy took for understanding before he gave a final brief glance towards the upper level, and then quietly left the house.

 

**PADDY**

_Aww shit._

Tommy pulled his hood over his head, though he knew the action futile: he’d already been spotted. 

“Getting in a bit late, or a bit early Tommy dear?”

“Good morning to you too Mrs. Donnelly.”

_Fuck sake._ He was a grown man and way beyond feeling the walk of shame, and yet his cheeks infused with hot colour at her knowing smile as he passed. 

“I’d be having a better morning if I didn’t have to listen to all the crashing going on over there.” Her head bobbed towards his own house and a tingle of fear coursed over his body.

“Crashes? What crashes Mrs. Donnelly, did you check on Pop or anything?”

“Why would I check on him? He’s your grumpy father. Ack, saw him bringing in an armload of groceries from Sal’s. Likely dropped half of it the clumsy arse. Broke one of my best china mugs last time he was by for my coffee cake.”

Tommy was taking the steps two at a time before her rant was even finished. This concern for his father an unfamiliar emotion that spurred him onward despite the litany of sarcasm that also spun through his brain.

“Once you’ve cleaned up his mess, I need your help with something too Tommy, if you can spare a few moments for an old lady?”

Tommy waved a hand over his shoulder, “Will do Mrs. Donnelly.” Even though he knew the noisy bitty was just dying to know what was going on inside his house. Another crash coming from what sounded like the kitchen and Tommy burst through the door calling loudly.

“Pop?! Dad! Are you okay?”

Paddy stood bent and retrieving several broken shards of what appeared to be the same dinner plates Tommy remembered from his youth. The blue checks that had been his mom’s favourite pattern now faded. Tommy noted the shaking hands once more as his father discarded the pieces into the trash.

“Here Pop, let me do that, you’re gonna cut yourself or something.”

“Ahh son, it’s not your mess to clean up, don’t worry about it Tommy.”

His hands were swatted away when he ignored the protests and continued to pick up scattered fragments. Paddy’s frustration and annoyance bursting forth suddenly.

“I said I could do it Tommy now just leave it the hell alone!”

Tommy paused and sat back on his heels, his gaze leveled at Paddy. No longer the little boy who would run from the room when voices were raised in both volume and anger.

“Suit yourself Pop, but are we gonna talk about that?” His finger pointed to the obvious shaking hands that clutched several broken pieces and he could see evidence of a nasty cut in his palm. 

Paddy wrung his hands together and then made a shooing motion while he groaned. “Ya wanna do something to help, than finish putting those groceries away and then maybe show your old man that you know how to cook a decent meal for yourself while I sit down.”

Tommy glanced around the room that for the first time he noted was not as tidy as when he first arrived. To the several bags of groceries sat lopsided on the table, and finally coming to rest once more on the obvious tremors his father attempted to hide.

“Sure Pop, I can cook ya know. They do teach more than fighting in the Marines.”

“Well booyah then, let me see what you can do.”

Tommy nodded and helped his father to standing. “And I can get the groceries from now on too, don’t you worry about that anymore.” 

He paused, surprised that no protests came this time as his father merely shuffled off towards the living room. Watched how gingerly his body unfolded onto the couch and once again he was struck at just how much he had seemed to age. 

“You should go back down the street to the nice girl instead of hanging with your old man son.”

“Yeah, maybe later, but first over dinner, we’re gonna have that talk Pop.”

Paddy, remote already in hand and eyes on the latest ball game, simply waved his hand absently in Tommy’s general direction. Several moments later when Tommy peeked in from the kitchen doorway, a fresh cup of coffee in hand, he was greeted by harsh snoring sounds. Within an hour he had dinner in the oven and popped next door to see what was Mrs. Donnelly needed. While he tightened the screws on her kitchen chair legs, he plied her with questions hoping to determine just how long his father had been having the symptoms. Mrs. Donnelly proving yet again that her mind was still sharp as a tack and he swore she noted right down to the second when she had first noticed. His shoulders slumped to learn it had been just over a year and he mentally kicked himself for being so self-preoccupied during his first return that he didn’t notice. 

“I am thinking Tommy boy, that it’s a good thing you’ve come home when you did.”

A wrinkled hand rested upon his arm and he felt the gentle pat that immediately harkened back an image of his mother lying upon the bed, her grip weak on his strong arms while he wiped the fresh blood from lips that still held a hint of a smile for her boy. Smiling through her pain because some things never change. _My big, little man.. my hero._ And from that moment forth, it’s all he had ever wanted to be. The intensity with which he missed his mom threatened to overwhelm; his mental excuse for why he didn’t resist the brief, gentle hug now offered.

“You always were a good boy Tommy. A kind heart. I always knew you’d find your way home.”

A weak smile was the best he could manage as he hastily bid a retreat; still warm coffee cake in tow and fresh guilt settling on his shoulders. It would have been better if he had come home when he was first released. His father still slept soundly, so he ate a quiet dinner alone at the table with a thousand memories bouncing off the walls. Unsure if he was making things better or worse; but all he knew was to follow the steps that his heart kept whispering. Take care of what needing doing – big or small. The weight of his thoughts pressed down with the ghosts of the past – the steady snores from the couch a familiar background symphony of his younger years. Although the reason had changed — because Paddy had made a change. His eyes fell on the bowl of chips and read the inscription: _Nothing Changes if Nothing Changes._ A finger fished the chip out of the bowl and he placed the new daily reminder into his pocket to join the previous one. Quickly scribbling a note to his father that dinner was in the oven, he grabbed a few essentials and Tommy was back out the door and heading down the street just as the street lights had begun to glow. 

~

Kyla’s home stood dark and quiet from the doorstep and with a degree of both relief and dismay he found the door unlocked. Stupid of him to not make sure Danny locked the door behind him. Body wary and senses on alert, he slipped among the shadows until he came to the foot of the stairs, a glance to his left to find Danny now asleep on the couch. A threadbare blanket tangled in his long limbs. Tommy crossed, still remembering which of the rough floor boards would creak beneath his step, and pulled the blanket over the young man’s body. Briefly he studied the lean features that had lost their boyish charm while he’d been away. A patchy light fur now lined his jaw and the wrinkled brow evidenced the trials of youth had followed him to manhood. He still tended to think of him as a boy, but couldn’t deny any longer he also saw himself in the bruised face and battered heart of the young man.

Tommy knew all too well that nightmares didn’t always vanish once you were awake. These wretched memories they both carried in the daylight hours. He hoped it was not too late for Danny. For himself. For…

.. his eyes raised to the upper level; a deep sigh exiting his body and replaced by an even more intense longing. He’d spent a childhood plagued by the constant emotion of being unsafe, and entered a life as a Marine where he committed to keeping everyone else safe. His father was the man who put his all into every angry strike, and every proud high five when Tommy conquered an opponent. The man who left marks on his mother’s face, was the same man who bought them ice cream down by the shore on rare family outings. A hero and a monster. Flashes of Mad Dog’s angry face spitting vile and smack at him flashed in his mind. The burning desire to smash his opponent’s face into the mat. The same energy that had torn a tank door free. That poisoned legacy was all there locked inside him, he just had to choose the right door to walk through. Changes. 

Kyla’s door softly creaked as he pushed it wide; the room now only lit by the streetlamp beyond the window. A lone sliver of gray moonlight spilling across the bed, revealing a form within the rumpled sheets. She stirred lightly as he moved about the room, discarding clothing then easing between the cool sheets. His body stirring at the feel of her warm and soft against him, but exhaustion saturated both mind and body. Burying his face in the soft hollow of her neck and he kissed a bare shoulder gently. 

It was then his first strong memory of Manny returned. _Coming Home._ How Manny would describe those first few moments of entering his home and being wrapped in the joy and warmth of his loved ones. The smell of his wife’s hair. The feel of her skin as they hurried to reconnect before a wee voice called from the dark. His body clenched tight to hold back this fresh grief. Kyla stirred again, a hand reaching back to touch his cheek. Stroke through his hair. Her body pressing closer to his own. And he heard his friend’s voice as though he stood at the foot of the bed. _You lucky shit, don’t you dare fuck this up bro._ And he knew without a doubt the words would be softened by a manly hug and several minutes of hard earned man-to-man advice. He couldn’t resist releasing a chuckle; this bittersweet visitation lightening his mood - even if it only happened in his mind. Kyla turned to face him and a desperate need overtook them both. No words, no crazy positions. Just a closeness and connection that had never diminished and now sparked to life once more. With each soft touch the bond strengthened and he’d never been more grateful than for this chance to make new memories. 

Maybe the bad would always follow him, plaguing his every step, but there was a whole lot of wonderful he could let in too.


End file.
